The Journey
by PanicButton
Summary: Continuation from Vacation: Blood, arterial spray, screaming, ripping and rending, pain and suffering...slash and unwanted desires mixed with neediness and greed...Reid/OMC Hotch and Prentiss...embark on a journey in mind, body and soul...
1. Chapter 1

The Journey

Part one: The Lounge and Other Places.

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_When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest. ~ Antonio Porchia,__Voces__, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

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_

There was no way I could go back to work for the BAU. I am permanently exhausted and in pain. Not just physical pain, but emotional. Everything feels so empty. I have a job. Of course I do and I go in every day and I sit at my desk and wish I was anywhere but where I am. Ticking boxes and checking forms is not really stretching my brain at all, but it is definitely stretching my will to live! I'm still in contact with Hotch. He saved my life. He was more than just a person I worked with. He is family to me, but something in the relationship has changed. I cant put my finger on it. Sometimes I sense that Hotch feels guilt over what happened and he shouldn't. It is me who is overwrought with guilt. I should never have gone back to that place. I nearly got my friends killed by my foolish actions and I certainly am responsible for the disappearance of Floyd. I'm not going to admit to myself that he's dead. I cant do that. I refuse to go that far. He is simply missing. Sometimes I go and see Sam. I cant bring myself to talk to him. I just stand the other side of the glass wall and look at that still form lying on the hospital bed and wonder where he really is because he's certainly not there. I know that. I can feel that. Is he somewhere with Floyd? I have no way of telling. Both Rossi and Hotch sit with him for hours. They read to him. They massage his skin with oils and creams but when I talk to them about the boy they tell me that they don't get a response from him other than slight movement of fingers and toes. He has seizures. He screams. He acts as though he is in terrible pain, but still there seems to be no brain activity. Maybe he would respond to me? I don't know and I don't want to find out. So I stand there and press the palms of my hands against that glass window and just look at him and see how much like his father he is. The profile of his face and the way his hair lays. Ten minutes is all I can take and I have to leave. I don't want to let go of the tears I can feel building up inside.

Then I go home.

I sit in the dim light and stare into the shadows trying to will someone to come back to me.

I miss the voice in my head.

I miss his smell.

I miss the feeling of his arms around me.

And I miss that flow of adrenaline when the fear hits home. When the fist cracks against my flesh.

I'm sitting at home now with a coffee clutched in my hands and my legs curled up under me and day after long day and night after dreary night has past and he's not returned. When the telephone rings I usually ignore it then check who's called later. Sometimes I will return the call; if it's Hotch or Rossi. I ignore the rest. Derek has stopped calling me now. Garcia posts notes through my door still, inviting me out for lunch and such, but I never go. I don't want to talk to them about what's bothering me. I don't want to talk to them about work.

'I filled in some forms and ticked some boxes.'

Would be all I'd have to say.

'I sat all night staring at the shadows willing them to come alive.'

They'd have me locked up.

'I have a knife which I slice into my arms with.'

They'd take me to talk to someone.

I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want things back how they once were, but it cant happen.

The only other person I talk to on occasion is Emily. She comes around without calling first. She hammers on my door until I give up trying to ignore it and unfold myself from my chair and go answer the door. She never asks to come in. She doesn't expect an invitation so she moves me out of the way with her hand and walks on in. She makes herself a coffee and sits on my couch and for a while we both stare into the shadows. She is the only one who seems to understand.

'He will come back.' She says sometimes.

And I shrug and pretend I don't care. What if he does come back though? What then? They will try to arrest him for the things he did and yes, he did things he should rightfully be locked up for. He would be pursued and chased and the mess he's already made will become bigger and bloodier. In a way maybe it's best that he doesn't come back.

Today has been overly warm and it's made me feel uncomfortable and my skin is itchy. My arms where I have healing wounds are causing me to slide my hands up the sleeves of my shirt and scratch at the red sore flesh. I was going to eat today. I had every intention of eating something. I even went to the store and got a pack of sandwiches in plastic triangle shaped plastic containers but they're sitting in the kitchen bin now. By the time I got home I was no longer hungry. I live on sweet coffee and would you believe this? I've started smoking. Disgusting habit but one I feel I need to do. Don't ask me why. I don't want to think about the reasons for this too hard. So I stink of tobacco and sweat. God only knows what my breath must smell like right now.

Getting up off my chair feels like such an effort, but tomorrow is another work day and I hate the job maybe, but I still have to be presentable. I have to make an effort to at least not look like I'm falling apart inside. Perhaps if I keep my exterior in place my internal turmoil wont be so obvious. Except to Emily. She knows. She understands. She's never asked questions, well not after the first couple of tries anyway. I'm not going to be talking about how I feel to anyone and certainly not to Prentiss.

I haul myself to the bathroom and spend the first twenty minutes in there just scrubbing at my teeth and flossing and inspecting them then doing it all over again. I stare into the mirror and look at the sunken look I've taken on and wonder about those sandwiches. Then I strip off and throw my dirty clothes into the wicker basket over in the corner. Then I turn on the shower and count to fifty. Always I count to fifty. If I get distracted by something I have to turn off the water and start again. I don't know when this started. I think it was gradual but it's a firm routine now and not something I'm going to find easy to break. I wash my hair with apple shampoo and scrub at my body with a brush and a bar of soap until my skin is red and raw. Then I work on my arms with my fingernails. I don't like to see the scabs there on that area between my elbow and wrist and so I pick and I pick until they are a bleeding mess again. That's OK. No one ever sees it. I wear long sleeved shirts all the time. There have been times when the wounds have opened up at work. I scraped my arm along the side of the desk once and opened up some of the cuts. I had to go to the men's room and wrap paper towels around my arms until the bleeding stopped and then wear my jacket for the remainder of the day. I probably looked hot and I probably had a sweaty odour to me too, but it was better than having to explain the blood all over my shirt sleeves. It's a small price to pay for the comfort and reassurance that I do actually still bleed and that I do still have some small amount of control over my life and what's going to happen next. I hold my arms under the hot water of the shower until the bleeding ceases and then turn off the water and step out, being careful not to slip on the floor and I shrug myself into my blue bathrobe.

It's a bit of a relief to get that part of my evening over with. It means having to touch the scars running down my sides. It means having to feel where that thing grabbed me and tore into me and it reminds me of what it may have done to Floyd and I don't _want_ to think about that. I want to relax. Please just give me a bit of peace and let me relax!

That night like so many others before and probably after I fall asleep on the chair and wake up in the morning with a mug of cold coffee at my side and my hair sticking up and a mess and my limbs and back aching. At least though with these other things to think about I am not thinking about those scars on my side; it distracts me from the one thing which is constantly going through my head.

Has what I did killed the one person I need the most?

-o-o-o-

There is a pulsating pain in the back of my head. It's been there since that dark day in that damned house by the lake. It's been there since before then probably but I'm placing the blame on that time spent trying to hold onto Spencer and my life under that weight pressing down on my back. The only way to stop that pain is to drink.

I am drinking too much. I _know _that I'm drinking too much and I suspect that Dave knows too, but he's not said anything. I can still do my job. I can still hunt down serial killers and child molesters and I can still keep my team working together. I had hoped that Spencer would have come back to work eventually, but he point blank refused to go the evaluation. He wouldn't talk to anyone about what had happened. At the hospital when we were both slowly recovering he seemed to shut down and feel the need to keep everyone away from him. Maybe one day, in his own time he will recover, but the time has past now that my hope for that are really reasonable.

So here I am at home for once. A long case and a tiring case, but we got the guy who was smashing women over the head with a hammer and leaving them to die. Another success for me to tick off in my head along with the others. I take a long deep swig of my amber coloured drink and the pulsating slowly dies away. I have been to see Sam today. I'd missed a few days because of being out of the state but today I managed it. I talked to him about trivial things and about reports I'd seen on the news. I played music for him, but I have no idea what sort of music he likes. I'm just guessing that it would be something loud and discordant. It seems to fit his personality. Not that he has one now. I read to him for a while too. Not long. My head began to hurt too much and I didn't want a migraine before I'd got home. I didn't want that white blinding agony to hit me until I was here in the safety of my small apartment and able to administer my own form of medicine. Am I becoming an alcoholic? I don't think so; not yet anyway. I could stop this if I wanted. I hold the drink up in front of my eyes and swirl it around in the glass and watch with sore and probably bloodshot eyes as it moves around enticing me and telling me to take another sip.

When was I last drunk? I don't know. Certainly not recently. It seems that I could drink that whole bottle and it not effect me other than to cure that dreadful pain sliding around in my head like a knife.

I think about putting on some soft atmospheric music and then decide that maybe I'd be better off getting myself ready for bed. Another work day tomorrow. I need to be on the ball. I need to get this almost haggard worn out look off my face and pull myself together. I finish my drink first though.

The routine in the bathroom is one I have slowly developed over time. I brush my teeth vigorously and floss and rinse with the blue mouthwash. Then I repeat. I never seem to be able to get my mouth clean enough. I strip off and turn on the shower then stand in front of the full length mirror and look at my body. I look at the scars and marks I have and I can easily assign a time and place for each of them. I touch them gently but my hand never goes near to where that spike of wood had sliced through me. I don't want to think of that. I step into the shower and shampoo my hair with apple shampoo and then scrub at my body with soap and a brush. I don't ever seem to be able to get my body clean enough either. The water is too hot. The brush too coarse. My head though feels good. Whatever is making me have these violent headaches has gone for now.

Last time I saw Spencer we met up at a coffee shop. He was too thin. He was too quiet. He wasn't Spencer anymore. He was smoking and it looked wrong. It seemed so out of place and off beam to see him smoking, yet it didn't stop me wanting to ask for a smoke too. I didn't though. I will let that be his way to heal and I will have my whiskey.

I step out of the shower and pull on my bathrobe and pad damply back to the lounge. Another drink wont hurt; just one more and then bed. Blessed sleep I would love to say, but it wont be. It will arrive quickly and it will be full of nightmares and I will awaken with feelings inside me that I don't want. Feelings of loss and betrayal and hate and rage and as those feelings slip away I am left with nothing but a big empty place which I had at one time reserved for love. There's no place for love in my soul now though. I need that space for all those other feelings I wake up with each morning. I had once thought that I could form a bond and maybe even a tentative sort of love for Sam, but whatever was there has gone. I visit him now out of a sense of duty and though this will sound callous and hard hearted, if they told me that the machines should be turned off I would give them a quick hard nod and keep my stoic front up and be pleased.

Rossi, he's talked things over with me. Somehow he's formed a bond with the boy. Any responsibility I have had he seems to have taken on himself. They wont be asking me questions about Sam's future. They go to Rossi now. I'm good with that. I let him down. I let everyone down eventually. It's like some damned curse hanging over me. No, not hanging over me; it's closer than that, it's eating away at me and making me become something or someone I don't want to be.

-o-o-o-

Previously I think I have mentioned the difficulty with keeping tabs on time when you live down a dark pit full of shit. Sometimes that time spirals out of all control and you get thrown somewhere you'd really rather not be. This is one such time. Where the fuck am I? Well I cant answer that question. What I can tell you is that pain is very much a part of my life for now, as is the boy standing hunched over at my side. I'll describe for you where I am because you might want to know, maybe you're not interested, but I need to pull these images into my own head and let them solidify. Maybe tomorrow I'll be some place else. For now I'm in a dirty sand covered street. There are cars scattered around and a row of shops on either side of this two lane street. The shop windows are either dark and filth covered or they are long smashed and look over the street like toothless mouths. They sky has a strange pink or is it green? Look to it. The actual colours are hard to make out. It shifts and changes each time I look up at it. No clouds. No birds. No dogs barking somewhere in the distance. Nothing. Absolutely fuck all else is here. A hand reaches out and grabs hold of me.

'Where are we?' Sam asks me.

'Fuck if I know.' I say comfortingly. I reach into a pocket and search for a smoke which I find. Then I fiddle around looking for my slim silver lighter. 'Want a smoke?' I ask the boy who is standing which his back still hunched over and looking down at the ground.

'Well it's not like it's going to kill me is it?' He moves out a hand to take the smoke which Floyd has just lit up for him. 'Ta.' He mutters as it slips between his lips. I give him a quick description of where we are, much like the one I gave you but maybe with a few 'fucks' and 'shits' added for effect. The air smells wrong. The place certainly looks wrong. A soft breeze snatches away the blue smoke from my hand rolled cheroot. A soft hot breeze. A soft hot dry breeze. A soft hot dry breeze with a faint tinge of something not nice to it. Over cooked steak? Spoiled hamburger meat? I'm not sure. It's an old smell though. An ancient smell and it sort of reminds me of that fucking house which Spencer and I were going to spend a week of relaxing wonderfulness in.

Sam keeps a tight hold of my arm as I sigh and take a step forward.

'Where are we going?' he asks and exhales some soft blueness from his lungs.

'Out of the middle of the street. Some shade maybe. Perhaps look for some water.' The last bit is a damned lie. I'm not going to look for water here. There wont be anything worth drinking. Had there been there would be some sign of life to go along with it.

'So why is this place deserted?' Sam says. Maybe talking to himself. Maybe to me.

'Disease? War? Lack of jobs? Fuck if I know. I just know I don't want to be standing in the middle of the street.' So why I've only taken one step forward might make you wonder why I'm not moving my butt away and finding shelter. Well that's partly because each step I take feels like something is ripping into me and there is the problem with co-ordination I am having.

Remember I got my neck a tiny bit very broken. I have to think about each movement I make. I have to say to my feet to move forward and then I have to tell it to stop and let the rest of my body catch up. Hand movement is easier. Which is what I would call a God Send and I think I might be right, but walking is giving me some grief. I'm just glad, well only sort of glad, that Sam cant see the pained expression on my face or the way I am clutching my stomach with my arm half expecting it to collapse in on it self or explode outwards.

'Are we going then?' The boy has taken more steps forward and is almost dragging me along behind him.

'Just give me a moment. Give me a fucking damned moment boy.' _Left foot forward now please. Thank you. Stay there. Now right foot. No, no, a bit further forward. Oh shit I'm going to chuck up. Left foot do your thing if you don't mind……._

Falling on my face in the dirt is something I've done many times before but I'd rather of not done it here. As my body smacks into the ground and Sam's hand get ripped away from my arm I expel a load of shit and crap out of my mouth. I think if I'd looked at it real careful like I would have seen that it was my own guts I am chucking up into the dirt. I lay there taking deep breaths and wondering how in the name of Pluto I'm going to get back up again without letting Sam know I'm down here in the first place and I hear his feet moving in the dirt.

'What happened?' He sounds alarmed. 'Where are you? What's that smell?'

'I'm OK. Just my…my…I need to sleep.' And I do. I need to sleep more than anything in the fucking universe and all the extras stuck on the side. I just need to close my eyes now and sleep and hope that nothing comes for me while I'm here. 'Wake me up if something tries to eat me.' I tell Sam and I close my eyes and let my body drift for a while. At least my plan was to let my body drift for a while, but I seem to be back in the pit of stink with Sam under me again. Now I don't know if this is a dream or if where I just came from is the dream. I lay there for a while. I'm not sure how long but judging by what happened next it wasn't for a tremendous amount of time. Though my eyes seem to be open where I am I know that they are closed and to awaken from this dream, if that's what it is, I have to open them for real. It's a struggle. My body doesn't want to obey me. It wants to lie here and heal, but I'm not going to allow it to. It's my ears which seem to go back to where I was first rather than my eyes. I can hear on the periphery of my senses the sound of something eating. That slurping chewing sound which I know too well. I take in the sound for a while wondering what the hell is being eaten and by whom and then slowly manage to open my eyes again. At first all I can see is dirt and sand but as I turn my head slowly towards to noise I can see Sam crouched there. I can see his hands to his face and it is from him that the sound is coming from. I watch for a while in silence and see one of his hands reaching forward and picking at bits on the ground. Now I am awake.

'What the fuck are you doing?'

His head snaps towards me and his hands drop to his side. 'I was hungry.'

'You are eating my vomit for the love of the gods!' I manage with a lot of informing my body what I want it to do, to sit. 'I puked up my own guts and you're eating it.' He nods slowly at me.

'I was hungry. You wouldn't wake up.'

'But that's bits of me!' and now my body reacts without my having to give it lengthy instructions. My hand snaps out and cracks Sam on the side of the face. I watch as he slides gracefully onto his side. There is _my _blood smeared over the side of this face and for some reason this sets off a chain of events which maybe one day I will look back on and wonder if it was the right thing to do, but at the time I didn't really have control over.

OK.

I had control.

I just chose not to utilise said control. Not for a while anyway.

My attack didn't stop at the one thump. Nor did it stop at two. I threw myself over his prone form and smashed my fists into his face and chest until my knuckles were split and bleeding. Then I pushed myself up and started kicking. I planted my boot in his face and the back of his head. I ground my heel into his groin. I stamped down on his knees and ankles and head and when I'd finished, when that red rage began to slide away again I took him by his hair and dragged him into the dim shelter of one of the old used up shops at the side of the road. He left behind him a smear of blood. It was soaking into my shirt sleeves. It was splattered up the legs of my jeans and had left a shiny red place on my boots.

The whole attack happened in silence. Sam was out from the first thump and I didn't see the point in screaming abuse at him if he couldn't hear me. Now though, now that we're in this dirty shelter and he's laying bleeding on the floor I talk to him.

'You shouldn't have done that. Look what you made me do you fucking idiot.'

He doesn't respond.

'How the hell are we going to get out of here now?' My guts are twisting and screaming inside me. My head is pounding. I need a smoke. I need a drink. I can remedy the smoking but the drinking I cannot. 'Fuck and shit.' I mutter and prod him. 'Wake up you son of a bitch. We cant stay here.' But Sam doesn't even twitch or groan and I wonder if I just smacked him back into hades. He's not dead. I can see that skinny chest moving up and down and those eyes. Those spooky Sam eyes are open.

Let me tell you about those eyes of his. They don't see. They don't do much at all. They just stare out at nothing the whole time. Maybe they will get better, but maybe they wont; I have no idea. What I do know is that kicking him in the head and stamping on his skull isn't going to help the process of healing. I sit with my back against the wall and run a hand over my forehead. I can feel a slight indentation from where I head butted that creature before.

I'm so fucking pissed off!

'Where are we?!' I shout out into that bright sun drenched empty street. 'What the fuck is going on?! Why did you make me do that to Sam?!' Yup, always blame someone else. The moment you take on responsibility for your actions you're a dead man. Pass the buck. Or you'll end up craving something you cant have. In my case Spencer.

-o-o-o-

I wake up suddenly from a strange dream. I'd been walking through a wilderness of sorts. A ghost town. I could hear my feet crunching on the ground and the sun beating down on my long dark hair.

I roll out of bed and walk to the bathroom and stare at my face in the mirror like I have done oh so many times before. I sometimes think I see a shadow of something behind me and I spin around to see what it is but there's nothing there. I tell myself I am cracking up. 'Emily you need to see a doctor before this effects your work.' I mutter as I look at my face in the mirror above the wash basin. There it is! I see that shadow again and I spin around so fast that it makes me feel light headed. Of course there is nothing there. Obviously there is nothing there. Except some how there is; not something I can see though, but something I can smell. A deep dark musky smell overlaid with whiskey and smoke.

'Where are you?' I whisper at the wall. 'Where the hell are you?!' This time louder. 'I know you're around somewhere. Where though. Tell me what you want me to do. Let me help you.' I blink a couple of times. Yes it is time I went to see the doctor. Except I know I wont. This is a comfort to me. This smell. This knowledge that he has tried to get here. He's been watching me. I smile contentedly and walk to my lounge where I pour myself a large glass of whiskey and pull a pre-made smoke from a red and white pack. I spend the rest of my evening standing at my window looking over at the street and the park beyond. I wonder for a short while if I should tell Spencer.

Then I decide not to.

I will keep this for me.

I will pull Flanders back to me.

Though I shall keep going to see Reid. I have to know what's going on with him. I know he's cutting. Any fool would know that. I know he's not eating. Hell I've seen inside his pantry. He has nothing there but coffee and sugar. I wonder how long it will be before Spencer turns back to taking drugs. He's been there before. He'll go there again. It's just a matter of time and he's sliding fast, very fast backwards.

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**a/n: worth continuing or not?

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	2. Breathing: Moving Onwards

**a/n: something went strange with the first chapter. I had to delete the story and re-post it. **

Part two: Breathing. Moving Onwards.

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_People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were travelling abroad. ~ Marcel Proust_

* * *

I can't move.

Well let us start with complete fabrication of the truth shall we? I can move, but I don't want to. I still seem to have easy control of my hands and arms which is a blessing: easy compared to the rest of me anyway. Not sure who over or up there found it within their conscience to deliver me such a wondrous ability but I'm asking whoever that is now to give me back the use of my legs.

I'm not going to beg for this gift, I don't beg. Not often anyway, but for fuck's sake I need to be able to walk. Sam is curled up on his side facing me. Sensible boy is keeping his pretty butt out of view, but he's not woken up as such yet. Just made a few groaning noises then went back to that odd staring at nothing crap he's doing. I've prodded him a few times with my finger and even pinched him – hard – but he's not woken up. I might have dealt him a slapping which is going to take him a moment or two to recover from.

My brain is complaining, my neck is stiff and hurts like a son of a bitch, my arms though I can use them and manipulate my fingers well enough to delve into my pockets and grab a smoke, ache and keep going into weird spasms. Stomach? Well I think that's going to take a load of mending. It got ripped out and munched on, so yes that's going to take a while, my groin is happy and tingling away as my thoughts drift occasionally, more than occasionally actually, very often, to my Spencer. All of this I can deal with. I can recover and survive a bit of pain. It's nothing really. Give me a day or two and I'll be right as rain, but my fucking legs; that's what is causing me to sit here and frown over at Sam. It's his fault. May as well blame him as there's no one else here and blaming Spencer has become boring. My mouth is dry and my lips are parched and I know I have to get water from somewhere, but I don't have a clue how I'm going to go about doing that.

'Sam!'

My voice echoes around this empty cavernous place we are both resting in. I think it used to be a clothes store of some kind. Very hard to tell what kind it was now though. It's like centuries have gone by since it was a working store. There are faded pictures on the walls, so faded that I can't work out what the writing says anymore. There are the remains of racks which once held clothing for people to come in and purchase, but they are just mostly empty metal racks now with the occasional hanger with the even more occasional bit of something dangling from it. Under these racks are piles of dust, some piles which have been blown around by whatever wind gets into here and some just sitting there as it fell and rotted. There are the remains of some mannequins, though there's not much left of them, for the most part they are melted lumps or rotting and fallen. Everything is covered in a soft grey film of dust and I mean everything, even Sam and I are becoming dust covered and I wonder how long in reality we have been here waiting. Must have been a while though as I have a nice pile of butt ends on the floor around me. I move my hands down to my legs and let out a long sigh. I have to get water. I should try to get food too, but what and where and how I'm not too sure about just yet.

Slowly I roll over onto my front and let out a yelp of surprise as pain shoots through my abdomen to my balls. I want to scream and curl up the way Sam has but I don't. I'm not going to let this get the better of me. As long as my balls hurt then I still have some. That's all I need to know for now. Giving my legs long and careful instructions I manage to haul up to my knees.

So here I am on my hands and knees wondering what the fuck to do next. I can't leave Sam here when I go looking for food and water and I can't take him with me and I'm not going to stay here in this god damned awful pain if I have no intention of going anywhere.

'Sam!'

Again my voice echoes through this deserted building and this time I get a slight moan from him.

'Sam get up and come here.' I can see his dirty fingers digging into the dust.

'Can't move.'

'Sure you can. You're just not trying. Get the hell over here. We need to get out and find food and water.'

'Fuck off and leave me alone.'

'Sam, get your arse over here now. If I have to come get you I'll be slapping you around more than you thought fucking possible.'

He shifts slightly. 'I think I know what you're capable of you bastard.'

'Then you'd know to get over here.' Our voices sing back and forth like we were in a cathedral. Not that I've ever been in such a place but if I had this is how I'd imagine sound would carry. A hollow empty shit of a sound. 'Now Sam.'

Again he moves and he's now much in the same position that I am, hands and knees. 'I can't see you. Keep talking so I know where to go.'

'Just keep going in a straight line, you'll be fine. You're doing great.' He's not doing great. He's making a pathetic job of this. Probably more pathetic than my own attempts. How damned long does it take the little shit to reach me? Fucking hours I expect. The light outside has gone a strange dark green, like I'm looking through night vision goggles of some such shit. When he finally gets to me he just falls in a heap. There's no way I'm going to be able to get him to stand up and go out there scavenging.

Not that I'd have sent him alone out there in that weird light with no sight of his own.

Let us start and end on lies and fabrications.

You won't know any fucking different will you? Obviously he's not going anywhere unless I drag him.

Which gives me an idea.

And the wind starts blowing harder and the dust rises in mountainous waves and suddenly there is no air. I have dust up my nose and in my eyes and sticking to the other muck and blood and sweat on my face. Sam, I can hear he is coughing and making gagging choking sounds. I place a hand over my mouth and nose and a hand on Sam's head; for comfort. My fucking comfort not his.

And I'm coughing and mimicking the sounds Sam is making with my own struggle to breathe. Not that I need to. Usually. I only seem to need to at the times I can't. Like now.

I have no options. I have to bring in some help.

I'd say I'm sorry.

But I don't like that word.

And I'm not sorry anyway.

-o-o-o-

I got a phone call from Dave. I didn't want to go back to the hospital. Not tonight. I wanted to sit and admire my pale green walls and look at the dust motes, but Dave is insistent.

'You have to be there for him Aaron. He needs you. It's not me he wants.'

I look down at the glass I have in my hand and then over to the car keys sitting on the small table which also has a nice vase of dried flowers on it. 'I'll call a cab.' I tell him. 'I'll be there as soon as I can,'

I'm not drunk. I am far from drunk. I don't think I could make myself feel even light headed if I drank four bottles of the finest, yet I know I've had too much to drink. My own evaluation of my state is obviously not correct. I palm my keys and stick them in my inside pocket and wait outside my home for the cab to arrive. It already knows where I want to go.

'You're visiting late.' The cabby says.

'Just drive.' I tell him. I don't want to get into a conversation about this with a total stranger.

'I'm sorry sir.' He replies and makes me feel a slight tinge of guilt that I snapped at him.

Dave didn't tell me what had gone on at the hospital or why they'd called him first. He just said that I was needed there now. It doesn't sound good. It doesn't sound like this is how I want to spend my evening. No, I'd far rather spend my night staring at the dust motes than having to think about this child.

Obviously I know where his room is. I don't have to request directions from the tired looking candy striper sitting behind the desk. I think I've seen her before and she gives me a slight nod as I walk by her as though to say 'Good evening Mr Hotchner, I hope you're having a pleasant time.' But without actually speaking. I give her a nod back to tell her 'Lovely to see you again Miss Smith.' Again without actually saying anything.

I take the elevator to the floor Sam is on and I can see Dave standing outside the room leaning on the wall, his head down, hands in his pockets. Things don't look good. I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for the worst. Whatever the worst could possibly be. My headache is coming back and making my eyes water with the ferocity of its sudden return. I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes and walk quickly towards Dave.

'What's going on?' The one question I need an answer to.

'They called me about an hour ago. You should talk to the doctors though.' He doesn't look up at me and his hands move and fidget in his pockets. 'You need to make a decision Aaron. Sam's not going to recover. We both know that.' Now he looks up at me. 'And I promised the boy I'd keep those machines going, he's in pain and the pain is not going away. You have to do something.'

'I see.' Though I don't. 'I need to talk to the doctor. I don't understand why I've been called here to be told what I already know. This could have waited. I know something else has happened.

The doctor tells me that Sam has had a bad day. His seizures have increasing in number and in length. His heart has stopped three times. He was bleeding internally. They tell me he was bleeding from his nose and ears. They tell me about his bloody tears. Now they are telling me that he's stopped breathing. They've intubated him. Though the bleeding seems to have stopped they don't know why it started in the first place. They've done tests. Sam is about as dead as a person can get. They want permission to turn off the machines.

'You tell me he's in pain?' I'm pacing the room.

'Exactly. Intense pain.' The doctor doesn't sound sympathetic. He sounds tired of this whole affair.

'Then I'm sorry I'm cant possibly give you permission to turn off the machines. Increase his pain medication.'

'Pardon?' Now the doctor is standing too. That wasn't the reply he was expecting. 'This isn't some kind of experiment which you can carry out. I don't care if you are a Federal Agent, we need to let the boy go.'

I shake my head and turn to the doctor. 'No we don't. You will keep that child on life support. You will do everything possible to keep him alive.'

'But he's not alive now!'

'He's feeling pain. He's alive.' I turn to leave the room.

'I don't know what sort of sadistic reasons you have for this Mr Hotchner, but I can assure you….'

I leave the room before I hear the rest of his rant. I don't want to hear it. I make my way back to where Dave is still standing with his back to the wall and I place a hand on his shoulder. 'It's not time yet Dave.' I tell him. 'I'm not giving permission to do this.'

I take in the shocked look on Dave's face.

'I'm glad. In a way I'm glad. I just don't like to see a child in pain like that Aaron. He's hanging on by a thread and we know why. We know who he's waiting for, so where the hell is he?'

'I don't know. I wish I could answer that Dave. Go home and sleep. I'll stay with him for the remainder of the evening. I'll make sure nothing happens.'

I watch Dave's tired walk towards the elevator. He seemed relieved. Relieved that he could go home or that Sam was staying with us for a bit longer, I don't know. The room is brightly lit. It doesn't really matter, it seems that his eyes are not reacting to light. I sit by him and place a hand on his. 'I'm here Sam. I wish you could tell me what to do. I want to help.' I used to get a flick of the fingers when I spoke to him, but now there is nothing. Just the sigh of the machine pumping air into his lungs.

'Sam, I need five minutes. I'll be right back.' I give that limp hand a squeeze and leave to go to the men's room. It's not far away. I can see the sign from the doorway to Sam's room. I turn and look at him and wonder if I would be feeling the same kind of detachment if that was Jack. Am I feeling like this to protect myself from the inevitable? I don't know. I push open the door to the men's room and know immediately that something is wrong. I want to step back out again but the door has slammed shut behind me and when I turn to open it again it doesn't seem to even be there any more.

There is a thick smell of musk and cigarette smoke in here.

'Flanders?'

It's him. I know it is. Nothing else carries with it such a distinctive stench of death and fear and dirt and corruption.

I walk slowly forwards towards the washbasins. 'Where are you Flanders?'

There is no answer, but that smell is stronger around here. I try to turn again. It must have been my imagination and tiredness coupled with the alcohol which has confused me as to the location of the door, but my eyes are drawn to the mirror above that washbasin. I lean forward and press my finger tips against the glass and see something, or someone standing behind me.

'Sorry to bother you Agent Aaron Hotchner, but I'm in a bit of a pickle and need your help.' Something lightly, like the gentle brush of fingertips, touches my back.

I feel the pain shoot up my arm and then that dreadful agony of my heart stopping dead in my chest. 'Wha………?' I fall hard to the floor smacking my face on the edge of the counter. I can feel blood coming from a place above my eye. I want to scream for help, but it's all over far too quickly and the feeling of the cold tiled floor against the side of my head slowly changes and becomes warm and gritty and a voice is saying to me.

'Well that worked well. I should get the whole gang in to help.' And I can smell Flanders' fetid breath on the side of my face.

-o-o-o-

I've long ago showered. I've had too much coffee and I've smoked too many cigarettes. I feel sick I am so tired but tonight I cannot sleep. I attempted to read a book, but my eyes wouldn't focus and my mind wouldn't stay on task for long enough for my fingers to even reach the page I was planning on quickly scanning. They will notice at work tomorrow. I doubt anyone will actually say anything to me. If they do it will be the first time that any one has communicated with me properly but they will notice. They will talk about it behind their hands to someone else and my boss will give me curious glances. I will be able to do my job, I know that much. At least I will if my eyes and mind work properly by the morning. I consider taking another shower or maybe a soak in the tub but the effort of getting up to do that feels like too much. When the hammering starts on my door I know who it is and tonight I choose to ignore it. I don't want company. I don't want to see Emily's haunted eyes and hear her unasked questions. After about ten minutes the hammering stops and I briefly wonder if I'd heard it at all or if I'm going mad again. Perhaps that's what is happening to me. I'm slipping slowly into a dark hole which I'll never be able to release myself from.

Now the telephone is ringing. It gives three sharp sounds before the answer phone cuts in. 'Sorry I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone' and then a _bbbrrr _sound.

'Answer your door Reid. I know you're in there. Something's happened to Hotch. Open the damned door!' And the hammering resumes.

I don't know what she expects me to do. I'm not a FED anymore; I can't help, but I get up anyway and pad to the door and open it. She looks like she's been crying and it sends alarm bells clanging in my head. Her hand reaches out for me, but I don't want to be touched today and I step out of the way.

'It's Hotch. You have to come with me.' Her voice is panicky and strange.

'I have my bathrobe on Emily. Come in while I get changed and tell me what's happened.'

I hear here exasperated sigh and as I turn around I can hear the clop, clop, clop, of her heels on my floor. I'm trying to hurry but it's not working very well. I can hear her talking from the other side of my bedroom door.

'He was at the hospital seeing Sam and he collapsed. They think he had a heart attack. Hurry Reid!'

The shirt goes on with more speed than I can really manage and the buttons are not in the correct button holes. My pants don't seem to want to be put on correctly either and the harder I try to speed up and get my feet down the legs the more I'm getting tangled in them.

'Reid for the love of god what are you doing in there?!' She is almost screaming now.

'I'm almost done.' I snap back at her. I didn't mean to snap. I don't want to be angry with her I just don't know if all of this is really happening and so I sit down on the bed and close my eyes and attempt to block it out. Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe this is a nightmare.

'I'm going then. I'll see you there.' She snaps back at me and I hear her heels clopping across the hallway floor and I hear the door slamming shut again and I don't move. I can't move. I just sit on my bed with my eyes closed and feel a great weight pressing down on me. I'm moving too slowly now. I know that my actions are sluggish and abnormal, but it's not easy to keep moving and keep going forward when everyone you love is dying around you.

When I leave my room there is actually no sign that Emily was ever there. Though I know she was. I think she was. For a few minutes I just stand and stare at the door. Should I go to the hospital? I glance over to my phone and wonder if I should check the messages. Maybe there's not one there from Emily. Then if this is a nightmare it will be there. There will be worse there. Grabbing my messenger bag and car keys I leave my apartment and go down to the garage under the building. I don't like it down here. It never used to bother me but now it feels dreadfully claustrophobic. The shadows feel closer somehow and sometimes I imagine I feel the floor vibrating under my feet and I the roof is coming down on me. Today though I just concentrate on getting in the car and driving away. I don't head west towards the hospital. I go north to where I know I can find a little bit of comfort from all of this mayhem. I pull up a couple of blocks from where I need to go and with a deep breath and sweaty palms I walk almost as though I am floating towards my destination.

I've not been here for a while. I've avoided this place and I shouldn't be here now, I know that, but the lure of the comfort this place can offer me is too great. I walk the street with my head down, avoiding the glances from the people walking around me. I think though I'm not sure, that I'm walking too slowly and I know I'm not walking in a straight line. Sometimes I'm knocking my shoulder against shop fronts and sometimes I'm almost in the gutter at the side of the road. It's like it's pulling me there; dragging me slowly downwards and I don't fight it.

I slide down the ally way and I don't look at the graffiti on the walls or the rubbish blown or kicked against the walls. I don't look at the whores and junkies standing around. I don't respond to the 'Hey! Haven't seen you in a while…fancy a bit?' I ignore it all until I reach a certain person who I knew would be here. He's always here. As reliable as eventual death.

'Back again then?' His voice has a slight lisp to it. 'Thought you'd be back eventually and you look like I could really help you out tonight. What are you after?'

I don't look up at him. I don't want him to see how ill I look. I just tell him what I need and I hear a chuckle from him.

'Well you certainly slipped right back down didn't you? Are you sure about this?'

'You want my money or not?' I mutter back at him.

'Sure I want your money, but there's no point in killing off my clients now is there? I prefer return custom.'

I rummage into my bag and pull out my wallet. 'Just give me what I need.'

'You look like you need more than this boy.' He tells me as I look up at him and his deep dark eyes stare into mine. 'I can offer you something better. More expensive mind you but probably safer than this shit.'

The money is in my hand and the drugs and bits I need are in his. 'Can we just exchange and get this done? I'm not here to socialise with you.'

He raises an eye brow at me and nods as he takes the money from my hand and passes me over my goodies.

'See you around then I hope.' He tells me and goes back to just leaning there against the wall. 'Maybe you'll be up for some fun next time?'

I don't answer him. I put the things in my bag and walk quickly back to my car. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest that I'm sure people walking by me on the street can both hear it and see it trying to escape from behind my ribs. My mouth is dry and my tongue feel strange; almost as though it's preparing it self for what's to come. I open the car door and sit in front of the wheel and stare for a while out of the windscreen.

'It ends here.'

I say as I remove the things I need from my bag.

_Good boy Spence. Just hurry up now. Not sure how long I can keep this up for. I'll see you soon._

-o-o-o-

_Hurry Emily. He's dying. Get a move on….Don't wait for Spence. Just get there as soon as you can._

The same voice in my head relaying the same message over and over again. I have no time to wait for Reid. I have to get there.

I have to get there as soon as I can.

I can't bear to lose Hotch. Not like this. Not after everything we've been through. It can't happen like this!

I know, I know I'm driving too fast, but there is that continuing nagging. That damned voice!

'Shut up!' I scream as I race my car towards the junction. The lights are changing and I slam my foot down on the break.

_What are you doing Emily? You don't have time to stop. Keep going Emily. Drive. You don't want him to die alone in a sterile hospital room do you? You don't want to miss that chance to say your goodbyes do you?_

I can smell it. That deep rotting smell of musk and dirt and the distinctive odour of his smokes. I can smell it so strongly. I catch just a quick glimpse of something in my rear view mirror. Almost like the shadow I saw back at home and then the voice is talking to me in my ear and I can feel arms reaching around me and hands being placed over mine.

_Drive!_

The word is screamed into my ear and the wheel is turned in my hand and I do. I do drive. I feel a pressure on my foot as I hit the accelerator and the car jerks forward into the traffic shooting by. I know I'm going to hit something, but now I'm moving I can't stop and some how the feeling that this whole damned nightmare is going to end very soon is comforting.

'I'm sorry Hotch.' I think I might say that…I'm not sure, maybe I just think it.

_Good girl. Good. Take a deep breath and close your eyes and I'll take you somewhere real safe._

Do car horns blare as I smash my way through? Does anyone scream? I don't know. My mind seems to have left my body long before I ram the front of my car into the side of the truck.

There is a strange disjointed feeling. Then a ripping as I am torn from my body and pulled somewhere else.

* * *

_Will you die for me? ~ Floyd Flanders._

* * *


	3. Cook, Nurse and Comforter

Part Three: Cook, Nurse and Comforter. 

* * *

I have a fault.

Not sure that it notices most of the time but it's there nonetheless. I try to hide it. I keep it tucked away discretely deep down and it only shows occasionally. The problem with having a fault is that it will get in the way of my logical thinking. It creeps up on me and I'm acting on unwanted needs or desires before I know what's happened. It's not my fault. Not really. I can't help but do these things and though you might look at me and think _Floyd that was not a wise thing to do…_I'll do it anyway. My own survival instincts will often cover up for mistakes I make and those little things which get by and sneak out go unseen; at least by most people. Have to be careful. Must keep my mind on the game or someone is going to start accusing me of shit.

Right now the only person who'll be accusing me of anything is Sam. I can see he can't breathe. I'm having the same problem but there goes that thing creeping up from inside. I have to keep the boy safe. It's vitally important to me that nothing should happen to him. Unless it's by my own hand. Or foot. Or teeth. Or other random or not so random body part. For now though I curl up around him and attempt to shield him from the worst of this dust storm. It's not really too difficult to do. In the grand scheme of things it's not really anything, but Sam will know I've done it. I know I've done it.

We have to have a balance in things. I believe strongly that if I do something nice for someone I have to balance that out by being a total bastard to everyone else. I'm sure you're familiar with this trend of mine. If not then you will soon come to be. As I curl up there around Sam and greedily pull from him some energy and life and pull it into myself – and why the hell not he's mostly dead anyway – I utilise that and send out some messages. Strong messages in some cases.

Agent Aaron Hotchner is a hard one to get my mind into. Not as hard as Rossi. I've given up even trying to manipulate that man. He's special. He will be something one day. I've not decided what yet. Hotchner I can get into. I can send him messages and he listens. Of course he listens. He's been keeping me in whiskey for a while now. I don't get to taste it as such, but I do sometimes get that nice lift of a woozy head as he sits alone every night drinking me into oblivion. Emily, dear Emily, she's been smoking and drinking on my behalf. Not as much drink as Hotchner has provided for me but I get something extra from Miss Prentiss; I get access to her dirty, dirty mind. HA! Spencer, now he's special too. I can walk right into his head and tell him what to do and he just goes and does it. I think it's because he's such a fucking genius. He has trouble knowing his own thoughts from mine. He smokes like there is no tomorrow. He flosses nicely too. Actually all three of them keep their mouths and bodies nice and clean. You never know when I'll want to use them. For fun. You know? Nothing nicer than a body which smells of sweet soap and hair which smells of apples. Not on me though. Sod that. I might be a fag, but I don't want to smell like one.

So where was I?

Agent Aaron Hotchner. He's a stubborn bastard but I got him in the end. A heart attack on the toilet floor. He'll be fine. Don't worry too much about him. They will open him up and poke around in his chest and they'll find nothing really wrong, but hell he won't wake up. A great shame. People will be very sad, but come on people you don't really think I'd kill him do you? Where is the fun in that? Hotchner is far more fun to have around and to torment than to simply snuff out.

Emily Prentiss. She needed some persuasion. I didn't want Spence in the car with her. I already had plans for my Spence and they didn't include the car smash which I forced Emily into. Once again you mustn't worry about her. Em will be fine. Head injuries. Bleeding on the brain. Maybe a bit of temporary damage there but she'll survive too. Eventually. When she wakes up she'll be like a shiny new penny and ready to roll again. I just need her out of there for a while and over here. I'll be explaining that later.

Spencer. Now what can I say about my darling Spence? He's weak. I few little nudges in the right direction and he's not only off the rails but said rails are no where in sight. Have they ever really existed for him? Sure they have. He's a nice boy, but it was time I had him here with me. I had a few choices on how to do this. I could actually get him to top himself, or I could do something like I have with Hotchner and Em. I decided on the latter. Only because I didn't fancy having to dig him up again. The dealer will follow him. He will watch from the shadows. He's not happy that Spence asked for Heroin. That's not his usual poison. He's not happy about that at all. He will see what Spence is doing and he will see the results of it. He's a good lad. I use him myself for stuff occasionally. Not just drugs, he's not a nice mouth and no gag reflex. Anyway, Spence is going to be fine too. Eventually. He will lock down and become not much more than a zombie for a while but he was mostly in that condition anyway. At least he'll be in hospital for a while and it will give his arms a chance to heal up so he can start hacking into himself again.

What I have effectively done here is use them like Sam. Sure they are still alive. I've just suspended things for a little while. They will wake up one day. They will become themselves again eventually.

Assuming of course that they don't die over here.

I give my neck a rub where the pain is creeping back in and look at the small huddle I am protecting and I wait for the others to arrive and feel the dust blowing hard around me and hear strange noises out there in the street, which might be the wind blowing through windows and around unused cables….but it might not be. When the howling wind finally ceases I push Sam away from me and over to the wall. It's sure taken a lot out of me. Not only what I've done to Spencer, Hotchner and Emily but keeping Sam safe too. My energy reserves are at an all time low and after my shoving of Sam to the wall I just lay there in the new layer of dust and dirt. Have I regained the use of my legs? Na…I've not and this strange "you are fucked" feeling seems to be moving oh so slowly upwards. That happy groin tingling I live with almost permanently has deserted me and even thinking of Spencer isn't getting me anywhere down there. I'm breathing big choppy breaths which are being forced out of me sounding like I'm in pain. Which I am. My neck hurts like the damage was just done and my brain feeling as though it's turning into liquid. I wonder if maybe I've overdone things slightly. It's not until my breathing calms down slightly and I close my eyes to concentrate on Spencer again that I hear something.

A sigh.

A small noise from behind me.

Pushing hard with arms which now don't want to do as I ask and shake with the effort I roll over and look out into that odd green glow which seems to be the only light source right now. I can see him clearly standing there facing me. His hands at his side. His hair a mess.

'Why?' Spencer says to me.

I can't answer him, but I claw at the dust and blink and lick at my lips.

'Why did you do this to me?'

I try this time to drag myself towards him,

'Don't come near me Floyd. Just tell me why you have destroyed me.'

This gives me a good excuse not to try moving again. 'I've not.' I say with a voice which feels like it's a thousand years old.

'You made me do that. You know I'd never have done that without you encouragement.' His hands slide into his pockets.

'You were half way there Spence. I just moved things on a bit.'

'I was healing. I was getting better! I was fighting things and recovering Floyd! You manipulated me and destroyed me. Why?' He crouches down out of reach and looks into my eyes. 'What did I ever do to make you feel the need to do this to me? What did I ever do but show complete loyalty to you? What did I do that was so bad that you felt the need to do this to me?'

He's moaning. He's making accusations. He's pissing me off. 'You got me killed Spence. I told you to stay upstairs. I told you what to do to stay safe and you decided that you'd rather do something to risk not only your own life but everyone else. You are a reckless fool Spencer. Why have I done this? I need you here. I need your help and you owe me.'

He stands up again and takes a step back.

'Damn you Floyd.' He hisses at me.

'Too late Babes. You damned me the minute you walked down those steps.' I can't be bothered to argue with him anymore now. I turn my head away from him and feel the bones there cracking and popping and close my eyes. When he's calmed down I'll talk to him again.

-o-o-o-

I'm sitting somewhere, I know that much, I just don't know where. My eyes are closed firmly. I don't want to see where I am or why.

'Hey Emily.' The voice is slurred and odd, but I recognise it. I slowly open my eyes and see that I'm sitting on a dusty floor somewhere looking at Flanders.

'What happened?' Stupid question really as I know what happened. I think I know what happened. I just need to work out now if this is some drug induced dream or a nightmare I am slipping into as I die.

'Things have moved on.' He says to me and he's just laying there on the floor unmoving and looking at me with those eyes which could drown a thousand people and still be thirsty for more.

'What is this place?' I glance quickly around me but by eyes are pulled back almost instantly to Flanders. I stand up and start to brush some of the dust and dirt off my clothing.

'Not so sure about that sweetheart, but it looks interesting don't you think?'

'Get up!' and I dare a step forward and kick out at his arm with my foot. 'Get up of the floor and explain yourself.' But he still doesn't move.

'Well that's part of the problem and why I'll be needing your help here. Kick a cripple would you? That's not what I'd have expected of you. You disappoint me.'

I'm walking in fast tight little circles now, my head snapping around to keep looking at him as much as I can. I don't want to let him out of my sight. 'You killed me.' I say. It sounds strange saying that.

'No, no I've not. Why do people assume I've done that? I'm just borrowing you for a short while. I'm not the sort who has a large circle of friends. I called in favours.' Still his voice sounds strange and I wonder if he actually is in pain. Could it be that the great Flanders is in actual pain for the first time in his existence? That thought almost brings a smile to my face.

'Are you in pain?' I ask him, as I watch his reaction closely.

'I'm…err, not.' He blinks and licks his lips and he lies. He's usually such a good liar. Something has changed. Changed a lot.

I crouch down on the floor and look at him closer. 'Oh my, you are! You are in pain! And explain to me Flanders, why do you think I owe you something? Why have you called me in for a favour?'

His eyes bore deeply into mine and he seems to be smirking at me. 'I let you birth my child. You owe me big time for that.'

I jump to my feet and move back away from him. 'Go to hell!' I shout. My voice echoes through the room I'm standing in.

'I'm already in hell Emily.' He turns his head away from me and it is now that I look up and see Spencer standing there in the deep shadows with his hands in his pockets. He's staring at me with big damp looking eyes. It looks as though he's been crying, or maybe just leaking tears. Maybe just the dust. Maybe Flanders has done something to Spencer too. I move forward stepping over the prone form on the floor and I hear Floyd groaning then going into a fit of coughing, but I ignore him and approach Reid.

'Do you know what's going on?' I ask trying to keep my voice from shaking both with fear and anger.

'He destroyed me Emily.' His voice is light and sad. 'I thought he, I thought, I thought he loved me Emily, but he destroyed me.'

I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. 'We can fight this Reid. Together we can. Look at him. He's finished. He's no threat to us now.' I don't get a reply as such but more of those tears slide down the dirt on his face. 'He's dying Spencer. This will soon be over. The two of us, we have to stay together. Stay strong.'

'I killed him Emily. You know when I first arrived I was so angry with him. I was so infuriated that I couldn't think straight, but he's right. I owe him. I caused this. I deserve what happened to me.' He moves a step away from me and my hand drops from his shoulder. 'I should have done what he told me to do, but I thought, I really thought I could help. This is all my doing Emily. Whatever he's done to you is my fault.'

I step forward and close the gap between us. 'He's manipulating you Spencer. He's using you. He doesn't love you. He only loves himself. He will use anyone and anything to get what he wants. He'd never sacrifice himself for you. Is this not proof? He didn't die to save your life Reid. He just dragged you down with him in his pathetic attempt to keep you needing him. It's what keeps him going. His ego is all he has.'

'You realise I can hear everything you're saying don't you?' Flanders strange voice slurs from behind me and Spencer glances over at him.

'I'm sorry Floyd.' Spencer whispers and takes more steps back, knocking into metal racks and sending dust flying and my eyes water now as much as Reid's do. Though my tears I can assure you are not over the impending fate of Flanders, Reid moves back until his back is against the wall and then he stops and takes a deep shuddering breath.

-o-o-o-

I'm standing bent over slightly with my hands on my knees. All I can see is a dark dirty floor bathed in a sickly green light. This must be some sort of hallucination brought on by the anaesthetic.

'Before you start on me.' A strange but horribly familiar voice says. 'I brought you here for a reason. I think you will approve. Just don't get pissy with me because of my method'

I shiver slightly both with cold and with some sense of doom creeping over me. I glance in the direction of the voice and see Flanders lying on the floor. I nod at him to let him know that I'm listening and I straighten up and walk over towards him. 'What is this place? And what did you do to me?'

'I don't know. Heart attack. Then borrowed you for a while.'

He's not moved and this makes me wonder if something is wrong with him. Or if this is just a nightmare. There is a dreadful chill about this place and the awful green light doesn't make it feel any more comfortable. 'You gave me a heart attack?'

'Mild. You'll be fine. Probably. Can you help me sit? I'm sort of stuck here.'

Again I nod. Explanations will have to wait. There is nothing real about this place at all so any reason he gives me will be false. It really doesn't matter. I walk over to him and puffs of dust burst and then settle again under my feet. I move towards his head and crouch on the floor. I then slide my hands under his arms and sitting back on my heels I pull him to a sitting position so he is facing away from me but leaning his back on me. His head moves back so he's looking up at the ceiling and he rests it on my shoulder. He lets out a sight of relief and says something which doesn't often come from Flanders mouth. Not with any meaning at least.

'Thank you.'

His teeth are chattering together and as I move my hand down I feel the icy cold skin of his hand.

'You should light a fire. You will die of the cold.' Do I really care if he does? I'm not sure. 'But now I am here you need to explain things to me.'

His hand moves up and pushes stray strands of hair off his face. 'It's such a long story I don't know where to begin.' More chattering of teeth. 'Whatever that was that came for us back in England only did half a job. The half it managed it did very well, but I still have a little fight in me Agent Aaron Hotchner and I'm not going to give up just because some fucker has decided that it would be better to see me die slowly. It's sort of, erm, a test I suppose. A trial. Can I survive it? I don't know.

Will I die here? Looks probable. Can I light a fire? Nope. Only thing here combustible is Sam over there and there's little point in my bringing you here to care for Sam if I've set fire to him. He's not in the best of moods as it is and I really don't think being my personal bonfire will up his mood at all. I need you to help him Hotchner. I need Emily to help me and I'm going to help myself to Spencer. You owe me.' He slips slightly in my arms as I look up and around myself properly for the first time and wonder if this really is real.

'Sam? He's here? And exactly how to I owe you Flanders?'

'Sam is over there by the wall. Spencer and Emily are hiding in the shadows crying on each other's shoulders I wouldn't doubt and yes you owe me. I let you care for my son. I let you bond with him. I don't let a lot of people do that with my spawn and I don't know why that duty fell on your shoulders but yes, you owe me for that pleasure.'

I stand up suddenly and let Flanders fall back to the floor. He lets out an _umph _as he hits the floor and I stare at the curled up naked form in the corner of the room.

'What have you done?!' I shout at Flanders now as the reality of all of this slides over my mind.

'Me? Do I really look like I can do anything?'

'You…..' I want to curse at him, but Emily and Spencer are here too. I keep my language under control. For now.

'Yeah well you lot might object to the matter in hand, but you've all got places to go back to. Me? I'm just here. I've got no fucking escape. You going to help out or all stand there feeling sorry for yourself. Hotchner you're a tough bloke, you can carry Sam. Emily can be in charge of the fire and cooking and Spencer, you can just keep me safe, as you failed last time. Comfort me for a change.'

I hear a sigh from the shadows but ignore it as I walk forward to see what he's done to Sam. I am nearly there when that strange green glow suddenly disappears and is replaced by thick deep and total darkness.

* * *

_You know I'd never hurt you, don't you? ~ Floyd Flanders. _

* * *


	4. Kiss of Life

Part four: Kiss of Life

* * *

I know I let out a gasp of shock when the light suddenly went. I thought that the ghostly green was spooky enough but this is worse.

'Emily?' I speak quietly but my voice still seems to be like a scream of panic.

A hand touches me and I try to control my fear and manage only to do a sharp intake of breath.

'It's only me.' Her voice is still shaky but it comforts me anyhow even if she is probably feeling as much fear as I am. I feel her fingers clutch hold of my shirt sleeve and the scuffling sound of her feet on the floor as she steps closer. 'It's OK Reid. There was nothing here before to harm us and there's still nothing.' She whispers this into my ear and I feel her hot breath washing over me. It's only now that I realise how cold it is here.

'Don't believe her Spence. Some monsters only come out at night.' Floyd calls over. 'Come over here and sit with me. I'll keep you safe.'

I want to go over there. I really do. I want to go and feel those arms around me and know that nothing is going to hurt me all the time I can feel him so close, but Prentiss keeps her hand tightly entwined in my shirt sleeve.

'He's scared Spencer. He doesn't want to comfort you and he certainly can't protect you. He can't even move. He wants you over there to protect him. Listen to him Spencer. He's using you.'

'You mind your own business whore.' The words scream around the room and that last word seems to echo on forever.

I know she's right. Really deep down inside me I know, but I still want to go over to him. I still want to feel Floyd against me but it's Emily who pulls me close and wraps her arms around me. It's Emily who is giving me comfort and protection. I feel like a fool. A vulnerable fool. Yet I _know_ that there could be things out there. I know that creatures hide in the shadows and only come out after dark. Maybe, just maybe I should think otherwise. Perhaps I should believe what Prentiss is telling me softly in my ear. _Don't listen to him Spencer. He's playing with your fears. Stay here and I'll show you that there's nothing out there. _And I hold tightly onto Emily like I am a child and I weep silent tears onto her shoulder. At least I thought they were silent.

'You're upsetting him Emily. Let him come to me. You're really not helping this situation. Hotchner you should drag – I mean _carry_ Sam over here too. We can combine body warmth until the sun comes up again.'

I hear Hotch over the other side of the room. Oh god I hope it's Hotch! My arms tighten around Emily as images of what it could be play through my mind. The pain in my side suddenly feels as though it only just happened and I cry out in pain and fall with all my weight against Prentiss who staggers back but doesn't let go of me.

'Reid. Calm down. It's just Hotch.' She tells me.

'Could be that thing that tried to eat him though don't you think?' Flanders helpful voice again. 'Maybe you should come over here.'

Emily and Hotch shout out at the same time. 'Shut up Flanders!' And the noise is so sudden that it feels almost violent. I want to cover my ears from the cacophony erupting around the room.

-o-o-o-

I've carefully run my hands over Sam. In the dark it's not easy and I didn't want my fingers going to places that they shouldn't. He's been beaten. I can tell that much. His skin is covered in lumps and is sticky with blood. He even seems to have blood congealing around his ears. I can feel a pulse and I can feel hard laboured breaths but my touch gets no reaction from him. I know Flanders did this. I can almost feel his name embedded into the bruises and blood. I can feel it was Flanders as a blind person would read Braille. I slide off my jacket and wrap it around the boy as best I can and then slip my hands under him in preparation to lift him off the cold ground. Flanders is right in saying that keeping together will preserve body heat, but as far as I remember Flanders had no heat to share. I sit down on the floor with my legs crossed and pull Sam onto my lap and wrap my arms as tightly as I dare around him half expecting a cry of pain, but there is nothing. All I can hear is the murmurings coming from Prentiss and Reid and the sudden shouts and calls from Flanders. He's lost. I don't mean that in a sense that he's lost a battle, but that he's lost his mind. Whatever sanity which once dwelt in that mind has gone and I know that I have to keep him alive or we will all be stuck here forever and really that's not a plan I wish to keep. With much shifting and wriggling I manage to stand with Sam still flopping in my arms and I turn to where the sniping voice of Flanders can still be heard.

'Talk to me Flanders.' I tell him. 'I need to know where you are.'

'What for? I told you to care for Sam. That's your job. You wanted the responsibility of looking after his welfare so now you can show me how much you really wanted to. Good Samaritan Hotchner. Are you going to walk by him this time? Are you going to allow his condition to slip further until there's nothing left of him or are you going to keep your word and not pass him off to the next person on your list?'

I ignore his words. What point is there in arguing with him? He is partly correct. I did take on this as my responsibility and then pass it off to Dave. I failed him. I'm not going to fail him again, but Flanders talking leads me over to where he is still laying on his front shivering and shouting abuse at Prentiss and Reid. I crouch down next to Flanders but I don't relinquish my hold on Sam.

'Flanders, stop wasting your energy.' I say.

'Well there's nothing else I can do with it.' I hear him reply between the sound of shivering and teeth rattling together.

'We can share warmth.' And now I place Sam on the floor next to him. 'What happened to Sam?'

'Well you're going to have to find out for yourself Agent Aaron Hotchner. I've been told to shut up and save my energy.'

I feel cold shaking fingers touch the back of my hand. 'I can't do this alone Hotchner. I tried. I wanted to get something to eat and drink, but I couldn't leave Sam. I couldn't take him with me. What did you want me to do? Leave him here alone to die or bring in some help?'

'I wanted you not to get in this situation in the first place.'

The fingers tighten around my hand. They feel like they are made of ice they are so cold. 'You think I _wanted_ this? You think I had this planned? I told you all to stay away. I told you to stay in the circle and hold hands. You didn't though. You let Spencer come down. You, yes _you _Agent Aaron Hotchner let Spencer leave that protection. You let this happen. This is your doing and now you need to help me out a bit and get me out of here because may the gods of anywhere but Pluto help me if you don't you'll die and be stuck here forever and I promise you Hotchner that _forever _lasts a fucking long time and gets very boring after a while.' I can hear him shifting and grunting uncharacteristically in pain. 'You, all three of you caused this shit and you're going to bloody well get me out of it again.' Another groan and some shuddered breaths. 'And then after all will be fine and dandy and we'll all be happy again. Spencer get your scrawny butt over here babes; I want to touch you.'

'What happened to Sam?' I pull my hand away from Flanders grip. I don't like the way it's making my fingers and hand tingle as though he's pulling something out of me for himself. 'Tell me what this place is. Explain to me what is going on Flanders and only then will I even consider trying to help you out. Reid, Prentiss stay where you are.' I say over to where I think I can hear their quiet voices whispering.

'You are making this really fucking hard for me aren't you? Why can't you just accept that I'm right and you're wrong and you need to help me?'

'Because that's not how things work. I don't trust you. I know you've done something. Explain where we are and what this place is and how we got here and convince me that you're not a liar. Prove to me that for the first time in your life you are being honest.'

'Honest?' A small cough. 'Right, I see where this is going. You want the full story. It's going to take too long. I'll give you the abridged version. It will be so much easier on your sanity.'

I pluck Sam up from the floor again and sit waiting for the flow of lies to come from Flanders and I keep Sam close to me trying to share with him any warmth or hope or tiny bit of comfort that I can give him.

'A long time ago in a land far away.'

'Stop with the nonsense Flanders.' I snap at him.

'Fine! You want the really short version of this shit? I'll miss some of the stuff out and just hope that it's not information you'll be needing later.'

'Let's start by me asking you where we are.'

'I think, but I'm not sure of this, I reckon that this is the Borderlands.'

'And that is?'

'Obviously. The answer to that is in the name of the fucking place. It's on the border.'

I can hear Emily and Spencer moving around again but they're not getting closer. It sounds more like they're sitting down.

'The border of what exactly.' I quiz.

'The border of the rest of the place I'd guess. I've never been here before so I'm just throwing out wild assumptions here.'

'Great. Start again. Stop messing with me Flanders. Sam needs help. Where can I get him help?'

'Here? In the Borderlands? We can't get help here Agent Aaron Hotchner. Why the hell do you think I pulled you lot over here. If I could have gotten help without you believe me I would have. You are here only so you can carry Sam. Emily is here to cook and Spencer is here for me.'

'How big is this place and how do we get out and why are _you_ here with Sam?'

I feel Flanders reach out and touch me again and I move back out of his reach. I hear his sigh as he continues. 'I'm here to save Sam.' Is all he eventually says.

'Save him from what?' The only danger Sam seems to be in is from Flanders.

'There is a war going on you know. So many people have died Hotchner. So many wasted existences and it's all going to be for nothing. In the end all will go back to how it was. Even if the other guys win it won't stop how things were because that's how we like it to be. You understand that? What we do and how we live might not seem right, but it's how we are. Sam has been infected. I need to get rid of the infection. If he succumbs to the infection then we have lost him. He's already slipping away from us Hotchner. It's like a dirty game of germ warfare. You might be surprised by this but I kind of have feelings for Sam. Real ones. Not ones generated by lust or greed. Real feelings like you'd expect a father to have for a child.' He pauses to get ready for more lies. 'I don't want to lose him Hotchner. You can understand that cant you?'

'I could if it was true. Explain your condition.'

'Wonderful. My condition has been brought on by being pretty much as close to death as a man can get. My neck hurts like fuck and my insides feel like they're on fire. I had movement when I first got here but it seems to be draining away from me. I'm dying I guess.'

I stand up with Sam still close to me and turn to where Emily and Spencer are. 'Talk to me Prentiss. I'm coming over to join you.' I've had enough of Flanders' lying. The only part of what he said which I feel had any truth in it was that he's dying and though I'd not wish death on any man, I am able to reason with myself that Flanders own people have delivered the death penalty on him. This wasn't my doing and there is very little I can do about it. When I reach Emily and Spencer we sit holding tightly on to each other with Sam lying on the floor between us. I close my ears to the shouts coming from Flanders.

'You bastard! Bring my boy back to me! You son of a bitch whore dog listen to me! I need my boy! Spencer…come here Spence. Let me hold you. You want me to hold you don't you? You don't want to make me mad do you? Come here you motherfucker! Why are you doing this to me?! They'll get you. If I'm not there to show you the way to the nexus how will you get there? I'm your pass out of here! Don't leave me here in the fucking dark you shits!'

'I should go to him.' Spencer's voice is so quiet that I can hardly hear it over Floyd's screams.

'No. You need to stay here Reid.' And my arm around him tightens.

'You don't understand Aaron. I really need to go to him.'

I feel him move back away from me and I hear Emily gasp the word 'No.' at him.

'I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. He needs me.'

Still his voice is barely more than a whisper. 'I let him down once. I can't do it again. I can't.' And Reid slips out of my grasp

'Floyd.' Just the single word called out by Spencer yet it sounds so desperate and lonely. The room falls into silence and all I can hear is our breathing and Spencer's movements towards Flanders. I don't like that he's going over there. I don't want him to give Flanders comfort, because that's what the man is crying out for. He was once evil incarnate and now he's just a pathetic used up nothing. If Reid wants to comfort that, then let him. Maybe it will help Spencer get over this strange obsession if he can see just what Flanders is. I don't call Reid back again though I want to. He needs to see the truth for himself.

-o-o-o-

I follow the sound of Floyd's breathing. I know what he's done to me but that doesn't stop this deep down need I have for him. I know I deserve what happened to me. I know what I am. I've known for a long time.

I get so tired of the disguise. The false face I put on for others. I'm tired of the pretence. I don't know why Floyd wants me though. I know I'm dirt. I know I am filth. He's told me often enough. I have to be grateful that at least someone still wants me. If Hotch and Prentiss knew what I really was they'd not want me near them sharing my warmth. When I reach him I kneel down on the floor and move my hand out to touch. When my hand brushes over his side I hear him let out a sigh.

'You're cold.' I say.

'My blood is turning to ice.'

I can feel his body shaking with the cold. He doesn't usually feel extremes of temperature. I know just by touching him so lightly that something is very wrong.

'I'll warm you.' I say as I lay down behind him in the way he has done for me so many times. I wrap my arms tightly around him and pull him in close to me and feel him push back against me.

'Don't go taking advantage of me now will you?' He says as his ice cold hands hold onto my arms in a death grip.

'I'll try not to.' I say into the back of his neck. 'Are you dying?' I need to know.

'Don't pay heed to the rumours Spence.'

'That's not an answer.'

His fingernails are digging into my arm.

'I'm trying to heal. It's just taking a while.'

'What can I do to help?'

'Just do what you're doing now Babes. Just don't let go. Tomorrow I'm sure I'll be feeling a helluva lot better.'

I lay there with my face buried into the back of his neck and breathe in those special smells of his. It makes my head spin and causes me to wrap a leg around his and pull him even tighter into me.

'I said don't take advantage of me Spence.' His hands don't seem as cold as they did at first. I'm not sure if I am just getting used to it or if he is warming up slightly.

'I'm sorry.' I whisper.

'I thought I was the only one who liked to fuck a corpse.' I can hear by the tone he is using that he's smirking. He's stopped shaking and his teeth have stopped that dreadful chattering noise.

No more words were exchanged by anyone for the rest of that dark period of time. I don't know how long it lasted. It was impossible to tell. I didn't sleep. I thought maybe I should try, but I didn't know where dreams or nightmares would take me to and though it may appear that I am the one comforting Floyd, I can assure you that it is certainly the other way around. When light finally starts to creep through the darkness giving the place an odd green glow again I let out a sigh of relief and Floyd lets go of me and turns over so he's facing me. The kiss is quick and more like a friendly peck on the lips and I just lay there looking into his eyes as his hands slide up my back and rest on the back of my head and his fingers meander through my hair and he twists my dirty locks around my fingers…not taking his eyes off mine and then he pulls me in for a deep tongue sucking, lip biting, mouth probing kiss. One which I am more than happy to return. When he pulls away again he is smiling. I don't see him actually smile often. It's usually a smirk I get from him. A big tooth filled smile normally sends out alarm bells so loud that they paralyze me. Now though I don't feel that at all. I smile back at him and watch as he licks his lips and moves a hand around and places it on the side of my face.

'Thanks.' He says and rolls away from me and slowly and carefully gets to his feet.

* * *


	5. Control

Part five: Control.

* * *

It's the movement from Flanders and Reid which I notice before I realise that there is some light returning to this place. I had my eyes closed and my one arm wrapped around Prentiss and a hand holding tight onto Sam. The chill has left now too. I look towards Emily and see her wide dark eyes looking back at me.

'I thought it was a dream.' She says.

'I was hoping it was too.'

I look down at Sam who is lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. I move my arm away from Prentiss suddenly feeling as though that amount of physical contact is wrong. You do different things in dreams and nightmares than you do when you are awake. I run the back of my hand over Sam's face. I can see now the damage which had been done to him and I know with even more certainty that this was the work of Flanders.

'We need food and water.' Flanders announces from the other side of the room where he is standing. I frown at him. I don't like that he's recovered so quickly. Reid is slowly getting to his feet and brushing dust from his clothes. He looks drained and that makes me look back up at Flanders and take greater note of how refreshed he looks. 'And then we can get going.' He continues. I see him take hold of Reid's hand and pull him close. It's almost as though the proximity of Spencer is what is keeping him on his feet and the same closeness is aiding Spencer. I don't like it, but there's nothing I can do about it. 'And I need to find something for Spence here. He's going to erm, want something pretty soon so lets get moving. Sam get over here.'

I look down and see that Sam is sitting holding the jacket close to his skinny battered body.

'So's you can slap me around again? I think I'll stay here with Aaron thanks.'

Floyd doesn't say anything. He's just staring over at the boy who is slowly getting to his feet. He drops the jacket to the floor and lets out a long tired sigh. 'Fine! If that's what you want.' As he starts to walk away I see the bruises covering his back. A row of boot marks down his spine and across his naked buttocks. When I glance back over to Floyd I see that he's unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. There's a gash along his shoulder. A big blue and red scar which seems to be almost pulsating. He stands with the shirt in one hand and the other rubbing at the scar. Spencer is standing so close to him that I can't see light between the two of them. When Sam reaches Flanders he's handed the shirt. Floyd then kneels on the floor in front of him and helps him put it on and then does up the buttons. It comes to the boy's knees and Flanders uses this extra length to pull the bottom of the shirt at the back between his legs and ties it to the extra shirt length at the front. At least we're not all going to have to see the boy's bare body now. As I pick up my jacket again and put it back on Flanders rolls up the sleeves on the shirt Sam is wearing and then he stands again. He then takes Sam's hand in one of his and one of Spencer's in the other.

'Happy families.' Flanders says with that smirk of his on his face. 'You behave boy or I will slap you into tomorrow.' He is looking at Sam when he says this.

'If you hurt Sam you will have me to answer to.' I let him know.

'Oh right. You really scare me Hotchner. Really you do. If I slap this boy then it will be for a damned good reason and you'll be advised to let me do it.'

There is no point in debating with him. He's an animal. He doesn't seem to have a moral code but I will, I will try to kill him if he harms Sam. I clench my teeth together to prevent me from telling him what I'm thinking. I look at Emily who is pushing her hair behind her ears and I nod towards Reid. She gives me a quick nod in return.

We start the first part of our journey.

-o-o-o-

I think I am beginning to understand. I hold tight to dad's hand. Very eerie feeling not being able to see you know.

I know he's going to have to slap me around again and I know that's going to cause a confrontation with Aaron and I don't want that. I'm trying so damned hard to keep this under control but it's there inside me slipping around and poking its way through my brain. It knows what to do. It knows that I won't be able to stop it when it's ready to really go for it. I keep my blind eyes firmly forward and try to think of things to distract me from what's going on inside. My free hand is very good at distracting me as it slides between the shirt and my flesh. The things might be crawling around in my head but I'm crawling over my….

'Ah shit!' The pain is so sudden and intense that it floors me with no problem. Something is screaming in my head and again I feel that pressure behind my eyes. I don't know whether to put my hands on my face or on my balls.

'Oh fuck.' I hear dad say.

'What the hell is going on?' Prentiss' voice.

'Flanders!' Aaron's voice. 'No!'

But I feel the hand grab me by the scruff of the neck and I feel the fist make contact with my face…..

-o-o-o-

Hotchner is on me and pulling me away from Sam. He doesn't understand! I have to make sure. I try to get back to Sam but the fucking agent is all over me. Fists flying.

'Let me explain!' I scream in his face. I think about head butting him but maybe my neck will pop if I do that so I attempt a knee in the groin which he blocks. I'm trying to see what Sam is doing which is the _only_ reason why Hotchner managed to block me and plant a hefty fist on the side of my head. I stagger sideways and sweep out with my leg which catches the idiot below the knee and pulls him off balance.

'Floyd stop!' And someone has hold of my arm. I get rid of whoever that was with a quick elbow to the face. As Hotchner is on the floor I kick. I'm not going to get down in the dirt with the pig. He's a quick mother though and only one boot gets him in the ribs before he's moving out of the way and getting to his feet.

'Stop it! Both of you pack it in!' Prentiss this time, so it must have been Spencer I smacked in the face. That thought makes me turn around to check and that is I promise you the only reason that Hotchner was able to jump on me and get my arm up and behind my back with such force that I think he's going to snap my arm.

'I told you what I'd do if you hurt him.' He's snarls in my ear just before I kick back expecting his leg to be there, but he's moved again and is dragging me backwards away from Spencer and away from Sam who is bleeding in the dirt again.

'Let the fuck go of me before I am forced to skin you alive and wear you as a clown costume!' I scream at him. No, I say…I don't scream. I am in control here.

I AM IN CONTROL!

I try to turn to face him, but he's got too tight a hold on me and pulling me away from Spencer seems to be causing my legs to go weak as the red rage floats in front of my eyes and I hear the cracking snapping sound of my arm when I suddenly collapse onto the ground.

'Spencer! Get up; get over here!' I shout as Hotchner kneels on the small of my back keeping me down and my arm still behind my back. 'You didn't let me explain! Get off me! Fuck you Hotchner.'

-o-o-o-

I'm surprised at how easy he was to get. I thought he would tear me apart to be honest, but he seems to still be very weak and I'm going to take advantage of that while I can and I'm not going to let him beat a child unconscious for any reason. Yes he hurt Reid too, but I do really believe that was a mistake.

He struggled for a while, but for now he is lying still. I've not relinquished my hold on his arm and I've not got off his back yet. We need some way to restrain him. I'm not going to carry on this journey with him able to attack one of us for no reason as he did Sam.

'Explain.' I say with such fury that spittle flies and lands on the back of his dirty head.

'He was in pain. I was just knocking him out.'

My reply to that is to push his arm up harder, which in turn gets a…

'AH shit! You bastard! You've broken my fucking arm you son of a bitch!'

'You want me to break the other one too?'

'Fuck you Hotchner! He's mine. I'll do what I bloody well want to him. Your laws don't apply here! I was helping him you moron!'

'Prentiss get over here. Hold him. I need to find something to restrain him with.' I half expected Reid to protest but he's sitting in the dirt in the middle of this abandoned road rubbing his jaw and looking at Sam. Prentiss moves quickly to me and we swap places.

'This wont work you know.' Flanders hisses.

'Well I wont know that until I try now will I?' I remove my jacket and then my shirt and rip off the sleeves. I then go back to Emily and Flanders and use one sleeve to wrap around his hands and tie tightly. I pull on it until I think I've probably cut off the circulation to his hands, but I'm not going to take chances here. The other sleeve I loop over his neck tie it in place and then rip off more of my shirt and tie the ends of the new strips to the loop around his neck then down his back and tie that to what is already around his hands and then pull that tight too. Hopefully it will cut off his air way and he'll at least stop talking. His arms are rammed high up behind his back and I do think I've broken his left arm by the way it's laying slightly un-naturally.

'What in the name of fuck are you doing to me?!' He's still able to complain it would seem.

I prod him hard with my foot and tell him. 'Get up. Get up or I will drag you Flanders.'

'What are you going to do now when they come for you?' He's trying to get up to sit but seems to be having difficulty. I lend a hand and grab him by the hair and pull him up to sit.

'I think I am able to handle myself. If our little confrontation was anything to go by you're not going to be of use at all except to tell us which way to go. Now get up and get walking.'

'You're going to regret this Hotchner. I swear you will regret what you've just done.'

'Maybe, but regrets are all part of learning. Do you regret hitting Sam?'

He's standing now and not looking very comfortable and certainly not looking very happy about his situation. 'I did that for a reason. Untie me you son of a bitch!'

But I'm not about to do that. What I do is tell Reid and Prentiss to stay with Sam and to keep away from Flanders. Then I move back into the place we spent the night and pull one of the clothes racks apart until I get a nice metal bar which seems sturdy enough to keep Flanders in check. When I return Reid has picked up Sam and Floyd is sitting in the dirt looking pissed off.

'Untie me!' He bellows as I return. 'Untie me or you are as good as dead.'

I ignore him and continue to walk in the direction Flanders had been taking us. Reid walks up close to me and then turns to block.

'We should be co-operating.' He says gently.

I nod and take Sam from him. He stirs slightly in my arms. 'I'm not going to co-operate with Flanders again. He's a liar and manipulator Spencer. I'm going to get us out of here. I will do that, but you've got to trust me and not him.'

He shakes his head slowly. 'But…'

'No Reid. You will do what I ask you to do. I don't want to have to do that to you too.'

This time he nods his head and steps back out of the way. 'You know when he gets out of that he's going to kill you.'

'It's a risk I'm happy to take.'

We walk off leaving Flanders sitting tied up in the dirt. If he wants to come with us then he's going to have to get up and follow. I am hoping that he'll decide to stay where he is in the dirt. It's where he seems best suited. I can see that Reid is standing looking back the way we came from; watching Flanders who is making strange choking noises.

'We can't just leave him.' Spencer says to no one in particular.

'He can follow.' I tell him and keep walking.

'Hotch, no, I'm serious. We can't leave him.' A pause. 'I can't leave him.'

I stop walking and I look at Spencer. He looks so tired and…there is something else on his face…confusion? Pain? I'm not sure what it is. 'Why not? He's abandoned you enough times.'

'I need him Hotch. I know you don't understand and I don't expect you to understand, but I need him.' He takes a step towards Flanders who in laying on his front in the filth again struggling against the bonds. 'He's all I've got Hotch.'

'Reid listen to me and listen closely. I'm warning you now that if you try to untie him I will have to restrain you too. I don't want to have to do that, but you are being irrational and putting the rest of us at risk. I'm not going to let you put us in danger because you feel this need to be with him.' I wait for a response and get nothing. 'Go to him then. He's your responsibility Spencer but please remember what he is.'

-o-o-o-

Remember what he is…Hotch said that. How can I forget?! It is sort of satisfying to see him unable to get out of that complicated arrangement Hotch has used to restrain him and I know I'll get the same treatment if I try to get Floyd out and I know that he will try to persuade me to help him.

I don't know what to do!

Should I go to him?

Should I leave him there? I can't! What if something comes for him? We are going to need him to get out of this place…I have no idea what this place is and I know Hotch and Prentiss have no clue.

There is Sam. Sam must know. We've just not had the chance to ask him about it yet. I rub at my tired eyes with the heels of my hands and realise that I'm shaking slightly. Something feels wrong and I stand there in this odd green light and lick my lips and watch Floyd watching me.

Of course I'm going to go to him! I would run, but my legs seem to be having a problem doing that. They are trying to buckle under me and pitch me into the dirt, but I'm not going to let my body give up on me just yet. My movements are slow and calculated and it seems to take hours to reach Floyd where I can finally let my legs fold under me and sit in the dirt with him.

'You know I can't untie you.' I tell him.

'I know. I'm not asking you to. Hotchner will eventually. Help me up. What happened to your face?'

I reach out and let him lean on me as he struggles to get to his knees.

'You elbowed me in the face.'

'It was a mistake. You got too close at the wrong time.'

No apology and I didn't expect one. Telling me it was a mistake is as close as saying _sorry_ that he'll ever get and I appreciate that. 'You shouldn't have hit Sam.' I stand and pull Floyd to his feet.

'I had a reason. I'm not going to explain it now. I said why I did it. He was in pain. I don't like to see him…well…actually…but that's not why I did it this time…Spencer you have to watch him. He will turn. He will try to kill Hotchner. I can promise you. Right now he's still learning. They are slowly teaching him and once that lesson is complete you lot are going to see why I did that. I don't make promises lightly Spence. You know that. If I say he's going to try to kill Hotchner I fucking well mean it.'

'I don't understand.' We are walking towards the retreating backs of Prentiss and Hotch.

'Not expecting you to. It's a story for when we're sitting around a fire. Sam needs to hear it too. He needs to know why I'm doing what I'm doing and maybe just maybe then Hotchner will understand and untie me.' He kicks at a stone in the road. 'He will need me. Not in the way you will. Feeling strange are you babes? Feel like you need another hit? And I'm not talking of elbows and fists. We need to get food first and water and then we can worry about your drug problem.'

'My what? I don't have a drug problem.' But maybe I'm wrong.

'Ah, yes you do sweets. But don't worry. I'll find you what you need. Maybe not what you tried to kill yourself with but I'll find you something. You know I'd not want to see you struggling with that don't you?'

'No…I think you're enjoying this whole escapade. Even being tied up.'

He smirks at me and raises and eyebrow.

'You can get out of that if you want cant you?'

Another smirk.

'Then why don't you?'

'No need. I want Hotchner to untie me. When he sees he needs me. When I prove that I'm right and he's wrong. When the shit hits the fan and he can't carry on…then he'll untie me. Then I will have control again. No point in getting out of this just for him to repeat it. You see?'

'I see.'

'As we are walking behind them and as we are walking so close to each other do you think you could slip your hand….'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I don't want to.'

'You don't want me?'

'That's not what I said.'

'You don't want to pleasure me?'

'I didn't say that either.'

'Then what's your fucking problem?'

I don't answer him.

* * *


	6. An Understanding

Part six: An Understanding.

* * *

I don't like that Flanders is walking behind me. I don't like to have to admit that I don't fully trust Reid not to untie him. I glance around occasionally as we walk down this dead street and the green light slowly turns to an odd purple which distorts the colouring on our faces and makes us took more pale that we already are. We need food and we need water, but I'm not sure we are going to find anything here. Nothing to hunt. We seem to be the only living things here. There are no scurrying sounds coming from the blown out shop windows. I've seem no birds flying in that odd purple sky. There is just nothing. Not even any sign that it has rained here in decades.

We walk for what seems hours, but it's hard to tell. The sun doesn't seem to be moving in the sky at all. The whole world seems to have stopped. Some of the stores have big metal grills pulled down over the smashed out glass. Occasionally there was a door which had been forced open either in or outwards. I'm looking out for something which might give me hope that I'll be able to find water. The signs which had one been above the shop fronts are distorted and unreadable. In a lot of cases they are broken and hanging down, or have finally met up with the ground to get blown around by the wind which rushes through the streets catching up bits of rubbish and other bits of debris. Assuming that there are other bits of rubbish to get blown around. Stopping and turning around I see that Reid and Flanders are beginning to lag behind a bit.

'We'll wait for them to catch up.' I tell Prentiss who gives me her nod and sits down on the curb at the side of the road.

'We need to find food and water Hotch.'

'I know.'

'Flanders knows where to get it.'

'Maybe.'

'Are you going to ask for his help?'

'No. We can manage without him. I just want him within sight and preferably hearing range.' I look over to where the two of them are gradually getting closer. What I need to do is find a store which originally stocked food items. Though remembering what the clothes store was like and the condition of the things in there I am not holding out too much hope that anything edible has survived whatever has happened here. I walk in a small circle and look around and see nothing but the dark open doorways and mostly blocked windows of what had once been a busy shopping centre for quite a few people. The only way to find out if there is anything we can use in them is to actually enter and look. I walk over to Prentiss.

'Look after Sam for me.' It's not a request. I get a small almost smile from a worn out looking Emily and so I crouch down and lay a sleeping Sam across her lap. 'I'm going to investigate and see if there is anything I can salvage from one of these places. I hoist my metal bar and again look over to where Reid and Flanders are slowly walking towards us. I can see that Flanders eyes are fixed on Sam and that worries me. I want to know what's going on between the two of them and why he's suddenly become so physically abusive towards him, but right now food and water are more important. 'Don't let Flanders near the boy.' I tell her and begin walking to the nearest open door way.

The light is filtering through the dust in the air as I step into semi darkness. It's as though a filter has been put over my eyes and everything has a scratchy old look about it. The dust flies insanely and I stir up the mess but I can still see enough to make out that this was not the sort of place which would have food. Again I can seem rotting piles of fabric and the remains of clothes racks. Shelves on the walls display piles of dirt. The thing which makes me feel most uncomfortable about this place is the total lack of animal droppings. There should be signs of rats. There should be spiders or at least roaches of some description but there is nothing. I only take one step into the gloom and then walk out again.

Flanders and Reid are about twenty foot away from Prentiss now. Reid is sitting and Flanders is watching me. He gives me a smirk and then turns to look at Reid who is, so it looks from here, to be drawing patterns in the dust with his finger. Apart from that there seems to be no movement. Again I check the sun which hasn't moved but seems oddly to be larger than it was before and the colour is a deep glowing purple. I swallow and lick my dry lips and suddenly realise how thirsty I am. Turning away from my companions I walk to the next shop along. This looks more hopeful. There are shelves again and some are covering in muck and small piles of something some of which I can't even begin to guess what it had been once. Some of them though have canned food stuffs in what was once a display. I walk over the rough ground and hear the glass scrunching under my feet. The purple light gives the place an eerie look and feel to it. With caution I pick up one of the canned object and look at the label. Even on close inspection there's not way to tell what's inside.

'You can't eat that shit.' Flanders says from the doorway.

I turn with the object in my hand, clasping it tightly and ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. 'And you know this how?'

'It's obvious.' His hands are still secure behind his back but he has a very smug expression on his face. 'You'll die is all. But go for it if that's what you want.' He starts to turn to leave.

'Wait.' I roll the can around in my hand. 'You seem to know this place so you can tell me what is safe to eat. I'm sure you don't want Spencer, Emily or Sam to starve and you know we all need water.'

'I don't actually give a shit about Sam. In my humble opinion which I'm sure I'm not going to share with you, I'd say that Sam is better off dead than being where he is now, because with all things taken into account old buddy, I'm going to have to do something to stop the boy if he doesn't die peacefully in his sleep and you know I don't really see that happening any time soon, do you?' He moves back towards me kicking things out of his way as he goes. 'And as for the other two, I'll get them something to eat and drink, but it's not going to be from here. Look at this place Hotchner. Take a good look around and tell me if you really think that crap is going to be safe.'

I place the canned goods back on the shelf and nod towards him. 'I don't know what's going on between you and Sam but I'm not going to let you hurt him and if you know where we can get food why the hell aren't you assisting?'

'I am assisting. Though I don't know why. I should sit out there with darling Em and my beautiful Spence and watch you kill yourself eating radiated shit, but I don't want the hassle of then rushing you to A and E which will be as empty as the rest of this place.' He takes more steps towards me. 'Basement Hotchner. You need to go to the basement. I'll help you find something there where things were shielded. This didn't all happen suddenly you know. You do know that don't you? Which is why there is a lack of erm, bones and vehicles; the place was cleared out. You knew that though. I'm sure you figured that much out. What we have to do is find the shelters. Most of these places had something like that. They stored stuff. For emergencies. The problem will be getting into them and I'm not much in the position to help you there, though I'm sure Emily could help and Spencer.' He's still moving forwards and sliding things away from him which lay on the floor. 'So the basement door is what you want to be looking for. May I suggest we look in the back rooms first? None of this is consumable. Had it been that easy to find something I wouldn't have needed you over here to help me now would I?'

I sigh and look around. My eyes make note of a doorway to the back of the store which likely leads to the stock room. I hate it when he's right. I hate it so much that I want to tell him to go away and leave the rest of us to deal with this, but I cant do that and I know he will just carry on following and tormenting and being a risk to us all. Sometimes it is certainly better to keep your enemies close. I can't call Emily in to help as she is caring for Sam and I don't want to call Spencer in as my trust in him has fallen so far down my list of things to trust that his name is almost level with Flanders. 'We can manage this the two of us.' I tell him and motion him forwards with my metal bar. 'Just remember that if you put any of us in danger I'm going to splatter your brains.' I don't quite believe I've said that to him. I don't like to vocalise my inner feelings that much, but he doesn't react to my threat any more than glancing at my weapon and back up at me again.

'You'll be wanting me to go first then?'

'You're correct. Get moving.'

And we walk together towards the darkness of the back room.

-o-o-o-

I sit on the curb just down from Emily and at first I don't look at her. I just draw patterns in the dirt with my finger. Floyd has gone into the empty dark store with Hotch. They will co-operate or there will be much blood. There is no way to know the outcome. I can't even begin to guess what Floyd has planned but I'm sure there is something whirling around in his head. He is forever plotting and planning something and in the unenviable position he is in with a probable broken arm and his hands secured behind his back I'm certain he has retribution burning in his mind.

Looking over at Emily I see that she's looking down at Sam and muttering something to him. I scuttle along on my back side until I'm closer to her, but out of touching distance. 'Is he OK?' I ask her.

She looks over at me. There is a furrow of a frown line between her eyes and her mouth is an angry tight line. 'What do you think?'

I give a small shrug. I wouldn't have asked had I known. 'I don't know.' I tell her.

'Your boyfriend could have killed him. Take a guess.'

'Emily, he did it for a reason.' I'm talking to Prentiss but I'm looking at Sam.

'What reason? Has he said? You've been chatting away like lovers for hours, so can you tell me what the reason is?'

My eyes snap back to Emily. The spite in her voice is so strong I can almost taste it. 'It wasn't me who hurt him Prentiss. Why are you so angry with me? I'm not in control of what Floyd does.'

'But you still walk with him. You still want to be with him. Do you think no one saw the two of you holding tight. Kissing for the love of god. You think no one saw?'

I blink and lick my lips and look over to where Floyd and Hotch went. 'It never occurred to me that it would bother you.' I tell her and then stand. 'Sam was in pain. Floyd hit him so he'd sleep and not feel it.'

'And that seems reasonable to you?' She's stroking Sam's hair.

I don't have to think about the answer. 'Perfectly reasonable. If I was in that sort of pain I would want someone to do that for me. It is you and Hotch who are being blinkered and unreasonable. Floyd is just trying to help.'

I can see every muscle in Emily's body tighten. She would had she been standing and not holding Sam had hit me. I know she would have and I would have let her.

'Help?! You call this helping?! We are only here because of him! He's pulled us into some sort of nightmare Spencer. He's not helping. He's enjoying this. It's his game.'

'You don't have to bellow at me Emily. You'll wake Sam.' I move back slightly away from her. I feel fidgety and I'm moving from foot to foot and I'm scratching at my arms and Emily is watching me and the scene is sinking in and she's not seeing me anymore she's watching the junky do his dance.

I need a fix. I need a fix so badly that I want to scream.

Trying to keep this under some sort of control was easier with Floyd around me. He seems to dampen the need down, but it's coming flowing back to me now. That deep powerful need of the monkey on my shoulders, only this is not the type of monkey that they have for happy holiday snaps on the coast, this is something spiteful and it's biting me and tearing at me and making my heart beat too fast and my breaths come to me too shallow. I need to go and follow Floyd but he told me to stay here. He told me to keep an eye on Sam. He warned me that when he wakes he's going to be one pissed off bunny and to prepare for it. He didn't tell me that I'd be out here under the high purple sun with my stomach screaming for food and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth with thirst and he didn't tell me I'd be dancing from foot to foot to entertain Emily.

He's done something to me. He's done something to make sure I need him and when he is around and I can see him and smell him and taste him then I know that there is nothing else I will ever need but Floyd's company, but now he's not here those feelings are drifting and all I can think of is getting a fix. All I can think of is that he's made me need this.

'I was fine! I was OK.' I tell the sun. 'This isn't my decision.'

'No Spencer of course not.' Emily snaps at me.

I want to shout at her. I want to demand that she gets up and helps me find something, though I know there's nothing here to find. There's nothing here to help me with this craving except Floyd and he's wandered off with Hotch to find food. I pace in circles and slide hands up my sleeves so that I can scratch at both arms at the same time and maybe disguise my predicament from Prentiss, but she knows. It's too late to hide it from her. She's watching me and that expression on her face is still tight and angry.

'You think I wanted this?' I spit back at her. 'You think I had this planned? You really think that this is the course I wanted my life to take?'

'Yes, sometimes I do.' She turns her head away from me and is looking down at Sam. 'Look what he's done Spencer. Just stop thinking about what he's told you and stop thinking about yourself and look at what he's done.'

But I know what he's done. I know it only too well. I've been there myself enough times to know. 'He's a good person Emily.' My words sound weird and jumpy in my ears.

'No he's not. There's not a good bone in his body. He's a manipulator and a violent control freak. He's a murderer and a paedophile. He's a cannibal and a rapist. Where is the good part Spencer?'

I turn my back on her saying. 'He's not a paedophile.' And want the conversation to end there. I don't want to talk about it. It's confusing me too much. Making my head spin and my stomach cramp. I make the decision not to talk to Emily again unless I have to. My eyes are pulled to the doorway they both walked through and I go and sit back down on the curb and draw patterns in the dust again. It gives my hands something to do. I don't want to tear my arms apart while I wait for him to come back and stop this feeling. This greedy junky feeling I have inside.

-o-o-o-

Hotchner makes me go first. That's OK. I don't much like the thought of him walking behind me with that metal stick. I know he's just itching to smack me over the head with it so I'm not going to give him the excuse he's waiting for. What can I possibly to do hurt him? I've not my hands rammed up high on my back and the bonds are cutting off my circulation. It's going to hurt like a mother when he finally unties me. And he will. I know that. He will finally realise what a mistake he's made. I need him to come to that conclusion on his own though. I need him to feel pathetic and lost. I want him to be begging me to help him. He will. Just need to give him enough rope to hang himself with and he'll do what I want.

I can't open the door I'm standing in front of so I just stand in silence and wait for Hotchner to move around me and pull down that door handle and push the door open. I decide to count to fifty before having to give him door opening instructions.

I reach fifteen when he walks to my side and does what needs to be done. Talking about the door here…not other things.

The opening leads into a short corridor. A dark passageway with a door at the end and one either side. There's not so much dust in here. The smell though is the same. It's not an air tight door. The destruction reached here eventually. Just not as direct as the rest of the place.

'Straight ahead.' I tell Hotchner. 'Stairs the other side of that door.' I nod towards it.

'How do you know?' He's watching over my shoulder.

'It's obvious. To me it is anyway.' And I walk forward the twenty feet or so and stand in front of the next door. Hotchner is quicker this time and moves around and pulls the door open. There are stairs. I was correct about that and a deep darkness which even my wonderful super human eyesight can't see into. 'It's dark.' I tell him. 'Maybe put the light on?'

He sighs and ignores me, which is OK..just another lesson for him to learn. I have a feeling he's going to come out of this with a whole book full of new and exciting things he's learnt. He pulls a bunch of keys out of his pocket and produces a small flashlight on the key ring.

'This will do for now.' He says and shines the light down the stairs in front of me. It has a surprisingly strong beam for such a tiny light. Some top secret Agent gadget I would imagine. There is a hand rail but I'm not able to hold on because of Mr Bondage and his tricky little games so I walk carefully down step my step and hear Hotchner walking slowly and with equal caution down behind me. At the bottom are rotting boxes of canned food and piles of dirt and mess.

'Cant eat this.' I tell him. 'We need to find a basement door…no, I mean the secure door. The place they would have gone to hide. All these places had something like that. Especially the food places. They had stuff to keep safe. A way to think they could survive. There's got to be somewhere.'

'A shelter. Nuclear shelter? Is that what's happened here?'

I give him a withering look. 'How the fuck should I know. I've not been here before. Let's hope not huh? I don't want to die of radiation poisoning before we even get close. Though I do pick up high radiation and that is why we can't eat this stuff and that's probably why there's nothing here, but I really think that's more to do with the sun than a bomb, then again I might be wrong. It's been known. Sometimes I'm wrong. Over here. Look. Big door. Electronic panel. Air tight. This is what we need.' I walk over to the big round door and look at it. 'Open sesame.' I call out. Nothing happens except Hotchner pushes me aside.

'We'll never get this open. It's got a security code. They power must have been off for decades.' But he runs his fingers over it and frowns.

'Solar power. I bet it'll open. We just need to wake it up.' I walk over to it and rest my forehead on the cold metal and listen. I listen carefully. I listen to the deep sounds from within the lock. I listen for the buzzing and whirling from within. I listen for the sounds I need to hear to get this damned door open. I think I can, but I won't know until I try and it's not going to be easy with my hands up behind my back. I turn around so my back is to the metal door and try to get my fingers to move over the panel of buttons. I've not really been trying to move my fingers too much and now I am realising that the bonds on my wrists have be cutting off my circulation a bit too much. My fingers feel numb. I give Hotchner my best dirty look and make my hands into fists trying to revitalise them a bit. As the blood begins to flow back into my poor fingers and that dreadful tingling starts I look up at Hotchner.

'Touch me.' I tell me.

'I beg your pardon?' He takes a step closer to me.

'Just do me a favour and touch me.'

What happens next I wasn't expecting and with my hands where they are I have no way to block or to stop myself from falling sideways, but the fist to the side of my head was enough to ground me. Before I can right myself again he's kicked me onto my back and has a foot tight against my groin. 'You are one sick guy.' He tells me. 'And you need to understand who is in control here Flanders and it's _not_ you.'

'For the love of the gods! Agent Aaron Hotchner you have surely been hanging out with a bad crowd. That's not what I meant. Hell. Help me up. I just need to draw some of your energy through me. Like up in that room. I need to power up the damned panel. I wasn't asking for a hand job. Your mind is as dirty as Emily's.'

Great pain.

Vile throbbing immense pain. My balls retreat and become the size of walnuts in response to the kick I get between my legs. I howl in pain and want to hold myself and make sure he's not splattered my private – or not so private depending on the situation – parts and ground them into my underwear.

'You fucking whore dog!' I scream at him. 'You bastard shit! What you do that for?!'

'To show you who's in control. It's not you. Get up and get that door open. For Spencer if nothing else.'

But I'm just going to curl up here for a while and try to get feeling back in my lower body and yup, I reckon I will vomit over Hotchner's shoes too. Just for the hell of it.

'Get up!' He's shouting at me and the sound of his voice is making my groin cringe. I decide that this is the time to slip my hands from these damned rags and show him who the boss is.

But I don't.

I can't.

They are too fucking tight and pulling and twisting them seems somehow to tighten the thing around my neck so I start coughing and gagging along with the vomiting.

A hand reaches down and grabs my hair. 'Not so smug now are you? Get up and open that door.' And something hard which at first I think is the barrel of a gun presses against my throat. When I open my eyes I see that it's the metal bar he is pressing down. 'I'll give you a tracheotomy if you don't get your self off the floor and get that door open now.'

I blink and I nod. 'Get off me then. Help me up.'

He pulls me up by my hair until I'm standing. 'I don't know what's going on here Flanders, but you'd best remember that you might have been the one to drag us here but you're not the one in charge. Get that door open.' And he pushes me against the door.

'My hands are numb…so are my balls, but I don't need them right now.'

'No excuses Flanders. Turn around and open the door!'

'I'm in pain here!'

'I don't give a damn.'

But he will. When I've sorted this problem. He'll give a whole big load of damns.

* * *


	7. Peaches

Part seven: Peaches

* * *

Slowly very slowly Sam seems to be waking up. He's snuggled up on my lap like a small child. Sometimes I wonder how this person can possibly be sixteen years old. He seems so small as he wriggles here and in his half sleep wraps his skinny arms around me. I can hear him muttering something but it's too quiet and now he's changed his position his face is buried against me.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Spencer still drawing things in the dirt. His mind a million miles away, fixated on his need to stick a needle in him self again. I could hear the sounds of shouting coming from the store Hotch and Flanders went in and at first I wanted to get up and go and see what was happening, but the words filtering up to me are enough to put a smile on my face. Hotch has control. All the time Hotch has control everything will be alright.

Sam wriggles more on my lap and holds on tighter. I let out a small sigh as I feel those small fingers digging into my back and the wriggling begins to feel slightly disturbing and his face presses harder against my chest and now the muttered words seem to have stopped and he's beginning to groan and make low moaning sounds. Now out of my peripheral vision I can see that Reid is watching me and when I look down at Sam I suddenly realise what he's doing.

'Oh god!' I shout and jump to my feet. Sam tries to keep holding on but I push him away from me and I'm swiftly coming to the realisation that Flanders might be right about him. He falls to the dirt with a soft thump and now I can see a small grin on his face. 'What do you think you were doing?' I hiss at him. I'd rather not Spencer know exactly what Sam had been doing with his…face and his mouth…and his…damnit…with his tongue as he pressed his face against my breasts. He doesn't answer me but scrabbles around blindly in the dirt reaching out towards where he can either hear my voice or sense I am standing. 'Don't touch me!' I shout at the disgusting creature clawing his way towards me and I realise that I said the same thing to his father many times in the past, but the main difference being that when it's his father I'm howling at I'm not sure I mean what I am saying. I back up away from him and can see Spencer moving in from my left.

'Sam.' He says and the frantic but now silent movements from Sam stop and still on his hands and knees his head turns strangely towards Spencer. He's not looking in his direction but he's listening to him.

'You want a bit of me too you whore?' Sam hisses at Reid.

'No I don't want a bit of you Sam. I want you to leave Prentiss alone and come to me.'

I watch Reid crouch down and rest shaking hands on his knees. It's almost as though he's calling to his dog and that thought sends a shiver down my spine.

'I wasn't doing anything to Emily. Nothing she didn't want anyway.'

I have an over powering urge to kick Sam. I don't know where it's come from. It's not something I would ever think of doing normally. Ever. I just wouldn't.

_Kick the kid…keep him down._

_Told you he was trouble._

_No one ever listens to me do they?_

_Keeping him unconscious is the best thing…._

_Go on Emily sweetness…smack the little shit around._

I want to slam my hands over my ears. I want to start walking and find how I got here and just walk out again, but I can't. I'm not keeping an eye on Sam for Flanders I'm doing it for Hotch. I'm not going to listen to that snapping vile voice in my head. Yet I'm not going to get too close to Sam either. I stand back and just watch him as he crawls his way towards Reid who is standing again doing his little junky dance. I want Hotch to hurry up. I want Flanders to drop dead. I want Sam to disappear and never to have existed and Reid? Well I'd not wish death on him, but maybe a trip to Europe or Prison would make me feel a lot better. Hopefully the latter.

My wonderful compartmentalisation is falling slowly apart. My perfect world which I've tried so damned hard to keep in tact, to keep stable and just, well just _right!_ is falling slowly apart. No, not slowly, it's falling apart with such rapidity that I feel like I'm going to drown. The pressure of all those long hidden emotions suddenly being ripped out of me and forcing me to acknowledge them is overwhelming. I take two fast steps forward with the intention of grabbing that filthy child by the back of his clothing and holding him in place. I wanted to shout at him and shake him and tell him what he was doing was wrong, but something stops me. As I reach out to take hold of him and I see the way his head is tipped slightly to the side listening out for what is going on around him and the way that makeshift clothing is hanging off his skinny frame and the way his feet are black with the dirt he's crawling through and the way his fingers are gripping at the old split blacktop road like he is clinging on for his life and I cant. I just can't touch him. I know.

I know if I touch that child the pity I am feeling now will over shadow the nauseating feeling I get when I think about what he was doing before I pitched him into the dirt he's crawling in.

Could Flanders have been correct about him?

Could he have been telling the truth? I don't know and I'm not going to go and beat the poor child…sickening child…perverted teenager…I have to remember what he is.

It's an act. He's doing this for sympathy and it's not going to work with me. I pull my self back together as I watch Spencer reach out and brush his fingers through Sam's hair and I hear almost silent words being exchanged and Reid looks up at me and then back at Sam and he's shaking his head and mouthing the word 'No.' to him. But I don't know what the question is. I watch Spencer gather Sam up into his arms and pull him close as I had been and I wonder if he's going to grind that small body of his against Reid and get the same results he got from rubbing against me. Somehow I think he will. And though I'm closing down that line of thought now and putting my barriers back up firmly in place I wonder if Reid is getting the same pleasure from that as Sam is.

I close my eyes for a little while and take long deep breaths and then just listen. I listen to the silence. I listen to the occasional shout or curse coming from a long way deep inside that building and I know…it's my intuition telling me that if Flanders ever had any control over Hotch, he's lost it now.

And I smile.

-o-o-o-

He's just standing there staring at me with his back to the metal door. There seems to be something different about him. He seems suddenly subdued or maybe he is actually in pain. If he is I really don't care. I need to keep the others alive. Probably I need to keep him alive too but I'm not going to risk losing control over him by releasing his hands.

'Hurry.' I snap at him and he just stares back at me saying nothing. I note a small frown line appear between his eyes and he bites down on his bottom lip and then blinks.

'I'm concentrating, which's not easy when you've just had your nuts crushed.'

'If you can't do it, just let me know. One more failure on your part isn't going to surprise me too much.' I try to goad him into action but he responds by moving away from the door.

'I didn't say I couldn't do it Agent Aaron Hotchner, I said I was in pain and I said I was concentrating. If you think you can do better then go for it. I'd love to see you try.'

I place a hand on his bare chest and I can feel his heart thumping behind his ribs and push him back against the door. 'Open it.' I demand and grip hold of the metal bar a bit harder.

'Push me one more time Hotchner….'

'and what exactly. Tell me what you're going to do? Kill me? Kill Spencer or Emily? What is it you'll do if I push you Flanders?' And I shove him hard again. His head snaps back and smacks on the door making a loud hollow clumping sound. 'Open the door.' This time my hand stays on his chest and I keep pressing back knowing that it's causing his arms and hands to get crushed against the door and knowing by the expression on his face and the small amount of sweat appearing on his forehead that it hurts.

'Get your pig hands off me. Get off and I'll open the fucking door.' I get a small amount of satisfaction in knowing that I have the upper hand and knowing that I hurt him.

'Curb your language Flanders.' I tell him and move my hand and step back from him. He takes half a step forward but he's leaning back with his head still resting on the door behind him. That look of probable concentration passes over his face again. The biting of the bottom lip starts once more and he closes his eyes.

'Shut up, I'm listening.' He whispers over to me and so I stand and watch him.

I am surprised when the noise starts. A loud clicking sound and a more distant whirling noise. The sweat on his brow has increased and he's bitten down so hard on his lip that there is a small dribble of blood running down his chin. My small flashlight is giving off enough light to see by, but there are still too many dark corners. Maybe it's good that there is no sign of any other life here. Maybe for once the desolation of this place is good.

'Done.' Flanders suddenly announces. 'Well the locks are done. Don't know if you'll be able to get the door open though. It's not had its hinges oiled in a few days I'd say.' He steps back out of the way and turns to look at the door. There are coloured lights blinking on the door panel where there was nothing before and a digital display with a long row of numbers which mean nothing to me. I wonder if I should bring Reid down here to see this, but change my mind. Flanders I can manage but Flanders and Spencer under his influence I'm not so sure about. I prod Flanders out of the way with the metal bar and watch with satisfaction as he does what I want without complaining.

Now what? I look at the panel and the lights and the big red button in the middle and I move my hand slowly and touch it with the tip of my fingers. It's vibrating gently under my touch. I take a deep breath and punch the button in with the heel of my hand. I can hear two things now. A loud hissing coming from Floyd standing next to me; a deep intake of breath and the sound of rushing air coming from the door.

'Well you broke the seal. Let's hope there's something in there which didn't have to be kept air tight.'

'Like?'

'Like some plague or disease they were keeping safe cos you never know really do you? The government did some odd things.'

'This place wasn't controlled by our, by my government.' I can see that very slowly the door is opening.

'Makes it even more probable then doesn't it? This lot might have been right cunning bastards. You just can't tell.'

I know what he's doing. I know this game. I play it myself. He's good at it, but I'm better. I ignore his words and slide my fingers around the edge of the door and pull it towards the two of us. I'm not too comforted that Flanders is now standing behind me. I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. He's standing too close to me and I want to turn and push him away from me. I don't want his smell near me. I don't want his teeth too near me either, but even those thoughts are washed away as I pull open the door and a yellow flickering light comes on in the darkness we have just unsealed.

'This could be good.' That voice behind me says. 'Or it could end in disaster. Fingers crossed?'

I don't bother answering him as I turn off my small flashlight and slip it back into my jacket pocket and blink into that yellowish light which is now settling and the flickering is almost but not quite gone. We can both see into the room beyond now and yes it looks hopeful. Far more hopeful than I'd even dared think about. There are shelves standing in front of us and the shelves are packed with canned and bottled goods.

'Peaches.' Flanders mutters. 'I could kill a tin of peaches right now.'

But I've noted that he's not gone rushing in to have a look. He's still standing there right behind me waiting for me to make the first move. I take a couple of steps in towards the room. This place is dust free. The air smells strange and stale but that's not a problem; as long as we don't get locked in it's not a problem anyway. I pull the door right open and push it as far back as it will go. The only people around are not going to be the ones shutting us in with the only food we've seen in what feels like days. As long as there's nothing else around that we've not seen then I'm confident that we will be safe. My need to check out those provisions maybe is dulling my normal caution but I'm now walking forward into the room. Straight ahead is a long rack of canned goods and some large containers of what looks to be water.

'I'm not too happy.' Again that voice from behind me. 'I'll wait here if you don't mind.'

Now the alarm bells are ringing and I'm sort of surprised that the yellow lights don't turn into flashing blue ones. 'Get in here.' I growl at him. There is no way that I'm going to risk him closing me in here.

'Just get the fucking peaches Hotchner and get out. I don't like it. It smells wrong.'

'It's just been closed up for a long time.' I reply.

'I smell death.'

'Yours?'

'Funny Hotchner, but no. I can smell something old and decaying. There's something in there. Just get water and the peaches and get your arse out of there.'

'You're worried about me?' I have turned to look at him.

'No, I'm just concerned I won't get my peaches. Move it Hotchner. Grab some stuff and get out of there.'

Is that alarm or concern on his face? I ignore him and turn my back to him. A gesture I know annoys him. 'I'll get you your peaches once I have water and food for the others.' I can see if I look to my left that there is another long shelf and it seems that there is another row of something behind this one. I reach up for what seems to be water and move the container to outside of the door. 'It's for all of us. Don't open it.'

'Get me my fucking peaches Hotchner!' He's shouting now and looking less than happy that I've not supplied him with his damned peaches first. I'm sure he's not going to close the door on me and so I reach up for some canned food and look at the labels. It's worded in English and in one hand I have a can which says "meat" and another which tells me it contains "processed vegetables" though what sort of meat or vegetables is a mystery. I throw them out of the room not even bothering to look to see if I hit Flanders. I'm sure he can get out of the way if he wants. I move along the shelf picking up random cans and tossing them behind me. When I get to the end of the shelf I see there is a corner to walk around. I've the peaches and I've left them on the shelf for now. I'll pick them up on the way back.

I take a step to go around the corner.

'I won't be able to help you.' Flanders calls to me.

Another step. The light is flickering quite badly here and the quality of the light isn't as good.

'Hotchner I cant come rescue you if there's something there.'

I ignore him and take another step around the corner.

'I mean it! I'm not going in that room with you. You go around there you're on your own.'

I'm around the corner.

I can see what maybe Flanders is picking up on and it welds me to the spot and I think I forget to breathe for a while. I finally take a deep juddering breath and slowly look around me.

'Hotchner?!' Flanders sounds worried? Surely not.

'I'm OK Flanders. Whatever it was is long dead.' There is a scattering of bones here. The first sign of life apart from ourselves. The way the bones are laying around and placed reminds me of something but I'm not sure what. I know I should know. I know I should be able to pick up on it immediately but someone bellowing at me from the doorway is distracting me.

'Hotchner get back!'

I don't move forward any further. If there is something on those shelves we can eat I'm not really interested in it. I glance up and see bits of bone stuck to the strip lighting. There are bits of bone stuck into some of the canned goods and it looks as though some water containers have been destroyed. I take a step back and look at the dark stain on the floor. I look at the splatter patterns on the wall. I look at the arterial spray patterns across the canned beans and franks. I realise that I've stopped breathing again and I'm taking steps backwards. There is a faint rattling sound which at first I think is Flanders playing mind games with me but when I look back to the door he is standing there motionless just staring at the canned peaches.

'Get out of there.' He hisses at me. 'Get the fuck out of there!'

And I'm running. What for? I'm not sure, but something has alarmed Flanders to the point that he won't even come in the room. I grab the canned peaches and move to the door.

'AH shit fuck bitching fuck!' I hear Flanders howl and when I look up again he's gone and the door is slowly closing. I'm a golfer. I play golf and I listen to music. That is what I like to do with my spare time these days. I don't do flying tackles on the sports field. That's just not my thing, but I'm doing it without thinking anything but that I am going to kill Flanders for this. I'm going to break his damned neck again for playing this game with me.

I'm just out of the door and rolling away in the dust knocking beans and ham and darned peaches out of the way as the door slams shut and the lights on the front panel all turn red. A small light above the door flashes blue red blue red a couple of times and then stops. I take a long deep breath and look around for Flanders. The place is dark again now though. I can feel a trickle of blood coming from the side of my face where I must have smacked myself against some of the things which are meant to be helping to keep us alive. I wipe that away with the fingers of one hand and pull out my flashlight with the other and shine it around the room. Flanders is laying in a lump over by the stairs. It looks like he was running for it and slipped but I get up and walk over to him.

'Don't!' He howls at me. 'I'm doing my fucking best here. Just don't.'

'Don't what? You tried to lock me in. You knew what was there.' I'm kicking him over onto his back none too gently. I can see blood running down his face and there are strange markings coming up on his chest. It looks like he fell on his front onto the stairs in his attempt to get away from me.

'Oh it's you.' He's shaking.

'Who did you expect?'

But he shakes his head and sits. Let's get this stuff back to the others.

'Wait.'

I stand looking down at him. 'You knew.'

'Hell I knew. Why do you think I'd not go in there.' He's struggling to get to his knees. 'I knew there was something. Didn't know if it was in there or had been in there. Was fucking well expecting it to be out here though. Hotchner, if I die you die. You understand that? You know that it's me holding you here don't you? I can't protect myself. You have to let me.'

'I don't _have_ to do anything. Get upstairs.'

* * *


	8. Sickness

Part eight: Sickness

* * *

Here's the thing:

You might not like me too much but you're going to have to put up with me for a while longer. Yes I know I'm sort of tied up here a bit…

'Thanks Babes.'

The peaches are wonderful. Poisonous…but I can deal with that. I think I have enough control to get rid of the toxins. Sam probably can too, but Hotchner and Prentiss? No chance. They are going to need me. They are going to need me so badly that they'll be crawling at my feet begging for my help. As for Spencer.

'Don't eat it.'

He will do what I tell him. Even if it seems I have no control I have.

'You want drugs? You want to stop twitching and scratching and feel like tearing peoples hearts out to get what you want? Yes of course; then you're going to have to do what I tell you.'

He's put his food down again and is just looking at me.

'They will need hospital treatment. Have you seen a hospital? No you've not, so Spence darling you and I will have to go find one and leave them at the tender mercy of that thing who used to be Sam.' I look over at Hotchner and Emily licking their fingers and then dipping them back into the can of food. 'They might die. They might survive. Whatever happens they're going to need something and you and I are going to be the heroes who go off looking for that something. We will get you your fix at the same time. It's OK Spence don't look so worried. I have everything under control. Do something for me?' I look into his hazel eyes and they blink back at me.

'Floyd. I'm not untying you and I'm not going to put my hand anywhere I wouldn't in polite company.' He pauses. 'Or my mouth, so please don't ask me to and what makes you think that the food has something wrong with it?'

'What makes you so sure it's OK? I really can't risk you having any…more peaches please. Mmm…thank you. The thing is if you all go down then I'll be here on my own with a rabid Sam and my hands still behind my back. I don't know how you'd feel about that, but personally I don't want to be in that position. I'm happy to be the life saver here…and will be but Spence, I can't do it alone. I need you too. Not like that so stop shaking that pretty head of yours but to actually pick things up when I find them. If I find them. Go scratch yourself someplace else and let me think.' I watch him stand. 'Help me finish the peaches first? Thanks babes.'

-o-o-o-

Canned fish pie. I didn't choose very carefully when I grabbed these cans, but Emily doesn't seem to mind it. Well at least she's not complaining. The cans have those ring pull lids which is lucky. I didn't want to have to ask Flanders to bite them open for me. Though I'm sure he could. Things have quietened down. All I can hear now is the noises of people enjoying food. I'm half way through my can of beans and franks when I look over at Reid. He's sitting with Sam at his side. Sam is gobbling down something which he's spilt out into the dirt. He's eating like a dog would and spitting bits out. Reid though is not eating; he's feeding Flanders his peaches. They're exchanging words quietly to each other. I wish Reid would come over closer to Prentiss and I. I don't like that Floyd is isolating him the way he is. I don't like that we cannot trust each other.

This food is leaving a nasty bitter taste in the back of my throat and hungry that I am I don't eat everything I have in this one open can, yet it seems such a waste. I pull a container of water towards me and I screw off the top. There is a plastic seal under it which I pull off. It makes a slight hissing sound which makes my stomach jolt with the memory of that door down stairs and the vision of those bits of bone and I wonder if this stuff really is safe to eat and drink and who did Flanders think I was when I first went to him at the foot of the stairs? Had he fallen trying to get away or had something else happened? In one way I want to think that he was not trying to run. If he was then he was certainly spooked by something and I don't want to think that there is something bad enough to even make Flanders run, on the other hand I don't like the thought that something had dragged him or even thrown him there either. Both options are ones I don't want to think about, but what other reasons where they for that? A game? He is messing with our heads?

I look over at him again and see that the can of peaches is finished and still Spencer's not eating. I look over at Emily who is finishing off her fish pie in a can and wonder firstly how she could possibly eat that and then I wonder if it tasted odd would you even notice? Likely not. A sharp intake of breath and I pick up the container of water and take a small sip. It's definitely just water. There is no strange after taste which is comforting. I drink more and my mouth tingles with pleasure. Then I screw the lid back on and slide the container towards Prentiss.

'Not too much. I don't know when we'll be able to get more.' I tell her and she nods at me and wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand.

'Thank you.' Her voice sounds strange, but I don't know if that's because of my hearing or because she's so parched and dehydrated. I look over again at Flanders and Reid. They seem to be in some sort of embrace, Reid's arms are tight around him and Flanders seems to have his face pressed into Spencer's neck, but then I see Flanders looking at me over his shoulder and I don't like that look on his face. Apart from the blood drying on there, he has a look of anticipation. He's waiting for something to happen and I wonder if the food I've just had is going to make me ill. It's almost as though he can read my mind as he blinks at me and smiles a sideways tired sort of smile, licks his lips and goes back to what seems to be licking at Spencer's neck.

-o-o-o-

I'm getting more and more fidgety and I know I am and I can't stop it. I walked over to Hotch for a while but we didn't exchange words. Something has changed. Well obviously it has and I don't know how to change it back again. We are all suspicious of each other. Prentiss won't even look at me. I want to warn them about the food. I want to tell them that they should be careful, but when I open my mouth to talk I don't know how to start. I don't know how to tell them that the man they have tied up is still going to kill them if they're not careful. I want to tell them to be careful of Sam. I know that Emily will be more careful in future, if there is one, but I don't know how to say this. I end up just scratching at my arms and shuffling from foot to foot and then pacing in small circles. Eventually after about fifteen minutes I walk away again.

I wanted Hotch to talk to me.

I wanted Emily to say something, but there seems to be a big division between us all now. Whatever Floyd wanted to happen here, has. He's playing a good game considering he's been beaten down by Hotch.

Thirst drags me back to Floyd. He's just sitting in the dirt with a smirk on his face. Whatever was bothering him earlier seems not to be now. Either that or this is just another part of his game. Letting us become complacent. Getting us killed slowly.

'We need to go.' He says to me and stands up. He turns to Sam who is now laying on his back with his blank eyes staring at the sky. 'I could stamp on your neck boy. I could take your life from you here. You want that?' Sam's head turns and those dark strange eyes seem to be looking at Floyd. 'Fight it. Fight it Sam or I will kill you. I'm not going to let you succumb. I don't want that for my boy. I'm not going to allow that. So you fight it. Or I will put Sam out of his misery. Do you understand me?' Floyd seems now to be talking not to Sam but at something else, yet he's still looking at him. 'Answer me. Do you understand me.'

'It hurts.' The voice is Sam's and I see a flash of something which is maybe relief pass over Floyd's face. 'I know it hurts, but me stamping on your neck 'til I pop your head from your shoulders will hurt more and I'll do it. Get up out of the dirt. You're not an animal. Get up and fight it.'

'You don't understand.' Sam whispers back at Floyd.

'I understand better than you'll ever know. Get up boy and don't let it take control of you.'

'But it HURTS!'

I see Prentiss and Hotch out of the corner of my eye. They are up and walking over towards us.

'I know it hurts Sam. You have to ignore it, or I can put you out again. What do you want? You want my help or are you going to fight this yourself?'

'I'll try.'

'You'd best cos I'm not risking taking you there if I don't think you can keep them down.'

'I'm going to kill him if you win.' Again he seems to be talking to someone else. 'So either way you lose. Just so as you know, because Sam is my spawn and I'm not going to let you have him.'

Sam remains silent but gets up from the ground and nods at Floyd and then tilts his head towards Emily and Aaron.

'We need to go.' Flanders announces. 'Spence here needs my help finding something, so if anyone sees a hospital or something can you shout out?' As he turns and walks off I can see that his hands have turned a strange colour.

'Hotch, you need to untie him.'

'No.' is all he says. No room for a debate. A simple answer and one I'm not going to fight against. We walk in a straggly line. Floyd goes first with Sam right behind him. Then there is Hotch and Emily walking nearly side by side but with Hotch just out in front. Then I'm at the rear. I am carrying the container of water. Hotch and Emily have stuffed their pockets with the cans and Aaron is carrying the water which they'd been drinking from.

At first it's a quick march that Floyd is leading us with. I can keep up easily with him. I'm used to the pace he always keeps. Something in between a jog and a fast walk. I see though that Emily and Aaron have to jog occasionally to keep up with him. It's after about an hour of walking through these abandoned streets that I notice that the jogging spurts from them have stopped and that I've slowed down to a fast walk. About half an hour later we are walking slowly and I can see that Sam keeps looking up and saying something to Floyd but I can't hear what it is. I can just see Floyd shaking his head.

-o-o-o-

It must be coming up to two hours of this relentless march through nothing that the pain starts. At first I think it's just because of the pace Flanders has been keeping, but he's slowed down now so it can't be that. When he at last stops and crouches in the dirty street I hear Emily at my shoulder let out a low moan of pain.

'Why have we stopped?' I call out and my voice sounds strained. I wipe the sweat off my face and give Prentiss a quick glance. She too is crouching in the dirt and has put her head in her hands.

'We need to find that damned hospital.' Is Flanders answer. 'I think we're probably all in need of a little help now.'

I turn further to see how Reid is fairing and that's when the spinning sensation begins. It comes so suddenly and with such a force that I go down to my knees and as I do the pain in my stomach becomes less of a pain and more like raging agony. I can hear that I cry out in pain, but that's about all I can do before my insides seem to explode and expel themselves through my mouth. It comes up with such force that I feel it bursting out of my nose and the spinning feeling continues. I close my eyes and I've no idea if I am standing or lying. I just know that if this pain carries on and if I don't stop vomiting soon the strain of this on my body is going to kill me. I feel as though I'm going to die. And I know that Flanders has something to do with this. Maybe there are hands touching my back or is it my shoulders? And that touch gentle as it may be feels like fire. I want whoever it is to stop, but I can't move. I can't talk. All I can do is heave muck into the dirt. Somewhere in the background I can hear shouting but it's so faint and distant that I can't make out what's being said.

I feel too hot. And now that my stomach as settled very slightly I can feel a burning at the back of my throat as though someone has put their fingers down there and scratched lumps out of the inside of my neck. Breathing hurts. Moving my tongue hurts. I think it's swollen but really it's difficult to concentrate that hard. The _thump thump thump _sound of my heart beating lets me know that I'm still alive but now even the shouting in the distance has stopped and all I can hear is my heart pounding trying to keep me alive…where the rest of me wants to die.

I am shaking. I can feel that my teeth are chattering together. I want to open my eyes and see if this world is still spinning, but any energy I had is being used up by the shaking and pumping my blood around my body.

It is a blessed relief when I get dragged down into the dark where I can float for a while and not have to worry about dying out there in that empty street being watched by Flanders.

-o-o-o-

It's all very well for _him _to say to me to fight it! He's not got this thing inside him has he? He's not having to continuously try to push it away. He's not in pain like I am. I can feel them inside me. I can feel them crawling around in there and saying their filthy words. Oh nothing I'd not use myself but that's not the point. I don't want them there distracting me, but when I push my mind past them and feel like I'm gaining on them and maybe even winning, then they attack. They dig in. They bite. They claw at my insides.

And I don't want to show dad that it hurts this much. I don't want to show Aaron that it's doing this, but my nose is bleeding like dad's does sometimes…and my balls feel like they're being eaten alive….and I want to rip at them and tear the bastards out of me, but then dad will do something and everything will turn to shit again.

And I know that he's only thinking of me.

And I know that he wants to help and doesn't know how, or is helping in the only way he knows how.

But those things gain headway when I'm out of it. They crawl all over my brain and when I wake up I have to fight them all over again and I have to feel them trying to squeeze my heart and snap my spine and block my air ways and chew on my brain as they call me those names and scream at me to let them in and try to bargain with me.

_Give us control and the pain will go._

But they're going to kill me if I do that.

Dad will kill me if I do that.

Then Aaron will kill dad.

Then Spencer will kill Aaron…

Then Emily will try to kill Spencer…

What the fuck is the point in that?

And boys…when you're ready…I'd like to be able to see again.

Cheers!

I do a list in my head as Aaron screams and vomits on the ground and we stand and watch…or listen as is my case.

1. We are all going to die a slow painful death.

2. Dad will save the day.

3. I am going to be taken over by the bugs and eat everyone while they sleep.

4. We will battle onwards forever onwards into darkness and gloom.

5. I will wake up and discover I've just had a really bad trip and need to kill my dealer.

6. We find a hospital and all get better and then go home.

7. None of the above.

I don't know. I just know that now Aaron seems to have stopped chucking up but there's a really bad smell about this place and is that Emily groaning and moaning…and why is dad not saying anything? Where's Spencer? Who's running? What's going on?

'What's happening?!' I shout.

And a hand grabs mine and starts pulling me. 'We need to find a hospital.' Spencer is saying.

'What you gonna do? Call a fucking ambulance?'

'No, I'm going to see if there is anything we can get to help them.'

'What's dad doing?'

'Sleeping.'

'Something will come and get them.'

'Then we have to move fast and find something to help them because I can't do it alone.'

'You're a fuck up though. A junky fuck up. You're just looking for a fix.'

'I'm going to find something. Even if it's just a blanket. We need to find something for them.'

'A blanket? What the fuck are you talking about? You know I'm not well too don't you.'

'I know. Which is why I'm not leaving you with them.'

'I might try to kill you.'

He doesn't answer that. He's got no reply to that. I hope I don't try to kill him though. I don't want to be out here alone. Even though I could go back. I could go back. I mean _really _go back and be me in the hospital with Rossi at my side and nice people around me.

But

I don't think that the things inside me would let me do that.

They have a plan.

I can hear them talking.

They are cunning bastards.

I just hope that the plan isn't to kill Spencer. I'd rather not do that.

Not yet anyway.

'I've got a pain in the balls.'

I tell him.

This time he responds by pulling me faster as he runs.

* * *


	9. Fighting It

Part nine: Fighting It.

* * *

This is going to be harder than I originally thought it was going to be. Spence has gone off dragging Sam behind him. Hotchner has finally stopped being sick and is motionless in the dirt not far from Emily who is herself just stopping her puking and laying still at long fucking last. Spencer thought I was sleeping. I'm not. I can't possibly sleep with all this going on. He's going to look for a hospital, but once there he'll not know what to get to sort this shit out. I don't know if there is anything to sort it out. My personal problems are this damned sneezing and coughing. I wouldn't mind it if was just snot I was expelling at such a rate but no obviously it's not. I am me after all. I don't sneeze out snot I sneeze out clumps of blood. I have my own ways of stopping this but is this the time to do it? And moreover exactly _how_ am I going to do it?

I wait until I'm sure Spencer is out of sight and then slowly roll over and get a good look at my companions. Not a pretty sight I can tell you. Hotchner has his eyes open, but they're half lidded, yet still looking right at me. He's accusing me of something in that look and I've not done any thing. Not really. I didn't make him eat that crud and if I'd told him not to eat he'd have done so anyway. Why would he listen to me? There's no trust there at all. Emily, she may have, but then Hotchner would have told her to ignore me. He would have placed doubts in her mind that I was being honest. Really I wouldn't have blamed her. I don't really have a good reputation for honesty.

'I need your help.' I say to Hotchner, who just carries on looking at me. 'I need your fucking help here. Can you get over to me?'

He answers me now. 'I'm not untying you.'

That's a fair assumption of his, but that's not what I was going to ask. 'I know. I know you wont, which is why I need your damned help. I can't reach my pockets.'

'I'm not helping you Flanders. Whatever it is you have in mind.'

I sneeze. It's a good one and sends splats of blood in his direction, but it misses actually getting him in the face. 'I need something out of my front pocket.' I tell him…and then cough up a lump of something the shape of a sliced peach, but only it's dark brown.

'What have you done?'

What the fuck sort of question is that to ask me? 'I've not done anything.'

'What was in that food we ate?'

'Meat. It said meat I think.' I'm getting pissed off with him, but I need his help. I need him to get his vile vomit stinking self over to me. 'Hotchner, if something comes for us now we are all dead. You know that as well as I do and I don't want that. You don't want that and I know Emily over there…' I give her a sweet blood covered smile. '…doesn't want that.'

'Reid has gone for help.'

'He'll find nothing. Really he is more likely to come running back with something demonic biting at his tail. You fucking well know that as well as I do. Have you seen anything anywhere which could possibly help us?' Another sneeze. 'These places are all infected. You know as well as I do. A fucking moron could tell that. We have to get off the street and in the shade and we have to trust. You can help by trusting me and getting something out of my pocket for me. Hell I'd even offer to share it but I think it'd kill you. I need a fucking smoke Hotchner! And I need some of my dope. Now.'

'Taking your drugs will help Prentiss and me?'

Why does he have to argue every little point? 'Yes actually it will, cos I brought you over here and if I die so do you. Now get your arse over here and help me.'

He does nothing. He doesn't even blink. He just lays there and watches me and it's really beginning to piss me off royally. My hands are numb. I've got a broken arm. My feet are tingling as the feeling slowly ebbs away from them and I'm sneezing out lumps of what looks to be my brain. It's not going to end like this. 'Emily…' I start but the look on her face stops me. I'm not going to get help from that one. 'Fine, leave me here and get yourselves under cover someplace. Go on get the fuck out of here. Go find Spence. Go do anything. Just fuck off if you don't want to help. Screw you both. You wanted my assistance earlier and I damned well gave as much as I could. I got the fucking door open for you so now either help me in return of clear off where I don't have to smell you.' A sneeze and this one is so violent – is that's the word for it – that my eyes water and my ears make a nasty popping noise.

'I'm not going to leave you.' Hotchner informs me in his tired but pissed off voice. 'I'm not letting you out of my sight.'

'Great. Wonderful. You going to lay there in that stink and attract everything for miles around and watch me die? I told you shit for brains, that if I die so do you.'

'You won't die. I won't die. You'd not have put us in this position if there was a risk of that and I don't think my smell is going to attract anything. There is nothing here Flanders. Nothing.'

'Then what's your fucking problem?! You just want to lie there and watch me suffer?'

He doesn't reply.

'Oh you are such a fucking great person Hotchner. So bloody thoughtful and I let you care for Sam?! See where that got him. See where your fucking care got my boy. You're fucking worse than me! At least I accepted that I couldn't care for him properly. At least I know I'm a shit! You though, both of you…Emily sweet…come and help me out here.' Shit do I sound like I'm begging? 'I just need some of my shit and I'll be able to stop this.'

And the bitch is shaking her head.

'What you shaking your fucking head for? Why do you have this thing against me? What the fuck have I ever done to offend you so damned much?'

'You nearly got me killed in that car then pulled me here. I think that's quit enough.'

'You owe me bitch.' I cough and spit back at her. 'I gave you things other women would kill for.'

She turns her head so she's not looking at me. 'I never asked for those things.' I can hear her but I don't think she's talking to me now.

I wriggle forward a bit, smearing my nasal blood over my chest as I squirm forwards like a worm. 'You were gagging for it Emily. I could smell it on you.'

-o-o-o-

The pain in my stomach as died down a bit. Not much though. I'm listening to the words being exchanged between Hotch and Flanders. I'd not call it a conversation; at least not from Flanders anyway. I know what he wants and I know why. There's always been that strange thing going on with his nose bleeds. I know he has something there in his pocket to stop it, but his front pocket is the last place I want to put my hand.

I'm shaking. I'm sweating. There was certainly something in that canned fish pie and yes I know that Flanders didn't put it there. He couldn't have. It was poisoned by something long before we came along. I want to ask them both what happened down there. Something did. Something they are both keeping to themselves and Hotch at least should warn me if there was danger. I know he would under normal circumstances, but this is hardly normal.

There is someone in my head with a sledgehammer and he's not going to stop hammering at my brain for a while yet I don't think. And so I am laying here in the dirt and sand looking between Hotch and Flanders and wishing they'd shut up or do something. Hotch could get Flanders what he needs, or wants, but he wont. I know he won't. He's taking delight from the way Flanders is virtually begging for help. He might not want to admit that is what's going on here but that's what's happening. Hotch is in pain. I know he is, but he is still getting pleasure from seeing Flanders not able to get or do what he wants. It would be a good time to arrest the being and get him locked up, but that's sods law I think. There's nowhere to put him.

He might be right about us getting into some shade though. At least getting out of the middle of the street and into some shelter. It's getting hot. I can feel that cold sweat on me drying as that odd purple sun blasts at my skin. Carefully I push myself up onto my hands and knees thinking I will stand and walk over to the side walk, but my arms are shaking and my head is spinning and I know that there is no way I'll be able to stand and if I do manage it I will be flat on my face again in no time.

It is slow. Very slow and very painful. I have to stop a few times and lie down again and try to regain some strength from somewhere, but eventually I do make it to the sidewalk and then clumsily up over the curb and towards the line of stores. I have no idea what this place used to sell and I don't really care. There will be nothing there for me to help this dire situation. What I do find is shade. The sudden temperature change brings goose bumps to my skin and it is there that I curl up again and carry on watching the two men lying in the street.

-o-o-o-

Why can't Spencer understand that we won't find anything?

Why can't he understand that I'm in pain?

Why is he being so damned stubborn about this?

'I can't walk!' My voice wails and echoes around this street which sounds as empty as all the others he's forced me down, but he still ignores me. I'm getting no reaction from him at all and it's really pissing me off. I should be thinking. I should be fighting this shit going on inside of me, but Spencer is distracting me from it. It's that continual muttering he does. He's not talking to me. He's talking to voices in his own head.

'We will find something soon. There will be something. I will find what we need. This wont is the end. I will get something to help them.'

Yes Spencer we know. Well at least I bloody well know by now….you've said it enough times for even an idiot to understand it. Hey even a deaf bloke will have heard that constant stream of shit by now…and damnit when I'm thinking of what Spencer is saying those things gain headway.

'I'm in pain!' I shout again.

And again all I get back is a load of drivel telling all who wants to hear how he's going to save the day…be the hero. I try to sit down, but I don't think he has even noticed that he's now physically dragging me along.

'Spencer stop!' I scream this at him and I think he must have heard me. 'I can't walk. Just stop.' And he does and he looks down at me with that fucking moronic look on his face which is saying to me _Who the hell are you and what are you doing down there?_

'Sam?'

Finally he says something to me. 'I can't walk.' And he nods at me.

'I'll carry you.' And he crouches to pick me up from the dirt.

'I don't want you to carry me. I want to stop hurting and I want to go back. We're not going to find anything. I want some water. I want to be able to see again and I want to go home!'

'I'll carry you.' Is all he says.

Shit…I've been fighting this for so long and I know dad is going to be disappointed in me, but I can't hold it inside me any longer. I just can't do it. I hurt too much. They are eating my insides away and my brain is screaming at me what to do to get out of this and another part of my brain is screaming abuse back at it and my eyes are watering and my ears are popping and my balls hurt like someone has been hitting them with a hammer and my ears seem over sensitive to any sound and my fingers are going into claws…and my toes are curling and feeling for a grip in the dirt and I don't want to do this. I really don't want to do this, but it will make the pain go away. For a little while it will anyway. I need to let these things think they have control…

I feel Spencer touching my shoulder. 'Sam?' He can see something is wrong. He can smell the smell of shit and decay and everything else on me I'm very sure of that.

'Sam what's going on?' His voice is shaky and low…almost a whisper. He's scared. I can smell that fear and that smell is exciting those things in my head and that smell is exciting those things digging, digging, digging, away in my groin and the hand leaves my shoulder as I look towards where I can hear him breathing.

'No Sam.' Again that whisper and the shuffling of feet in the dirt. He's turning away from me. He's going to run, but that just makes it easier for me.

I pounce.

I know I can't see, but I don't have to be able to see.

I am on his back and my fingers are digging into his neck and my legs are wrapped tightly around him.

I will strangle him.

Or rip out his throat with my fingertips.

He is screaming and moving backwards. I know what he's going to do. He's going to try to knock me off his back. He's going to batter me against the wall, but I don't think he's going to have time to do that. My fingers can already feel the stickiness under them as they claw at his skin.

'Sam!'

That's all he manages to say for now, but he's tripping backwards. I think he's falling over the curb at the edge of the sidewalk. He's sitting down with a thump on his arse and his fingers are mixing with the blood as he tries to get my hands away from him.

The smell is wonderful…I love the smell of a fresh kill. There is something simply orgasmic about it. The blood seems to be running down the side of his neck and it's real easy for me to start licking and biting at it.

Snap at his fingers….yes I do. I snap hard and hear him scream some more, but it's not got the same energy to it that it had earlier.

'I'm going to eat your fucking heart right out of your chest you son of a bitch.' I hiss into his ear just before he throws himself back onto the sidewalk and tries again to get me off him. Damn…I can smell his fear so well now…he thinks he's going to die.

And he's right.

'I'ma gonna kill you, your fucking fag bastard.'

That's not what I wanted to say! I didn't mean to say that. Damn these things have more control than I thought they would. Blood is coming out well fast now and he's smacking me down again on the side walk and maybe dad was right. Maybe the best way is to let him knock my brains out and then I won't be hurting…not hurting myself or Spencer…

Not that he matters.

_Thwack_

My head bounces on the hard dusty sidewalk, but he doesn't knock me out. He's going to have to do something quickly or so help me I _will _rip his heart from him. Damnit it's making my mouth water just thinking about doing it.

-o-o-o-

There seems to be blood everywhere. I don't want to hurt Sam too much because there's no point in being alive if I hurt him too much. Floyd will kill me for it and kill me a lot slower than Sam is doing.

Too much blood.

My head is swimming as my body goes into shock…I try to knock him off my back. I try to get his fingers out of my neck. Out of it! Not off it…he's digging deep down and though there is no spray there will be soon if he doesn't stop and then it will be all over. Very over for me and mostly over for Sam. I want to tell him and explain to him but all I can do is scream now as he starts biting at the places his fingers are sliding into and over.

I thought it would hurt more than this. His hands have moved down now and around me and are digging into my chest. I'm going to die here if I don't do something very quickly, but my strength has gone. All I can do now is try to get the back of my head to make contact with his face, now while the teeth aren't biting into me. I ready myself. I might only get this one chance.

'Die you fucking son of a bitch!'

He is shouting from right behind me as I feel his nails ripping through my shirt and popping the flesh of my chest.

I count in my head up to six…and then……

-o-o-o-

His head makes hard, very hard contact with my face. At first I think it's all going to be just fine. I think he's mine. I think I'm going to eat this piece of shit alive…then my head smacks again on the sidewalk and a strange flash of colours shoot across my vision…or lack of…and then….I can hear dad.

_What in the name of the gods are you doing?!_

_Fight it!_

_I told you to fight it you little shit!_

And it's too late.

* * *


	10. Finding Spencer

Part ten: Finding Spencer

* * *

'Ah shit!' I snap this at Hotchner and Prentiss. 'You two are going to be the death of all of us. You fucking know that don't you?'

I have to get to my feet. There is no option now. No more messing around here. Yes I'm bleeding and yes I need my smokes and snort, but they're not going to help me now are they?

'I gotta go.' I spit at them both. 'You two have a nice day in the dirt, but Spencer is hurt and I gotta go help him.' Sometimes when I'm really pissed off and really seeing red rage in front of my eyes my accent slides a bit and I sound more and more like some English nut job, but that's by the way really. Those two fuck for brain idiots aren't going to recognise that in my voice the way Spencer would.

I think I told you previously that my feet were tingling and that horrible numbness was creeping around my feet again, but I'm just going to have to ignore that and try to get up off my face in the filth and go help Spencer. Assuming it's not too late to help him.

'I'll ask you again to untie me.'

And I get a small tight shake of the head in reply.

'You really don't realise what damage you're doing do you? You have no fucking idea.' I'm on my knees now which is a good start. 'I just want to be able to help Spencer. Why do you have to be so thick skulled and not see that?'

'You are a sociopath and unrepentant liar. Why would I trust you?'

I hate that cold way Hotchner talks sometimes. Maybe the heat which will soon come and try to boil his blood will warm him up a bit. I bloody well hope it does.

'I really was a fool when I brought you two here. I thought you'd help.'

Prentiss calls over to me now. 'You misread us Flanders.'

I'm on my feet now and I feel a bit wobbly and there is blood running down from my nose and into my mouth. I lick my lips and sniff up some of the rest. 'I guess my profile was a bit off.'

And slowly I turn and start to stride away from them. Each step is agonising tearing ripping pain, but I'm not going to show them that. I don't even know how far away Spencer is or what damage Sam has done to him and I have no idea what I am going to do when I get there. I've tried tuning in and getting into Spencer's head but the signal is down. I'm just getting static. That's fine. He's not dead. If he was I'd know.

I sneeze and splatter the ground in front of me and I secretly, or maybe not so secretly hope that something does come and get those two still back there.

'I hope your inaction kills you both.' I mutter to myself. I'm not going to shout it out to them cos here I have doubts…doubts I'd not normally be in possession of and I don't want them telling me when they stand over my torn remains down at the nexus that they were right and I was wrong. I can really do without that.

How long have my hands been strapped up behind my back? I don't know. I've lost count of the hours or days now, but I know that there is no longer any feeling in my arms or hands and I know when they are finally released that the pain is going to feel like someone has been stomping on my shoulders for a few days. In a strange way I'm not looking forward to that experience. I don't like that back there where we came from originally this wouldn't hurt. Hell it wouldn't have happened in the first place. I'd have slapped him around so much that his eyeballs would swell in his head; he'd never have normally been able to do this to me. Enough of that though…the matter is that he did do this to me and now I'm going to have to work out how to deal with it.

I break into a jog, but it's clumsy and my strides don't have that smoothness to them that they normally would.

You know I learned to jog like this from the Native Americans many moons ago. Almost too long ago to actually remember how it came to be, but I was sort of living with them for a short while way back then. I lived and I hunted with them and it was them who showed me this way to move so quickly and silently. It's faster than a walk. It's not quite a run. It's somewhere in between and probably lost from memories now. You have to keep your balance on the balls of your feet. It was hard to do at first when I first went out hunting with them. They'd rush off ahead of me and I'd jog to catch up and then walk for a while then have to jog to catch up again. Not a very good way to keep your energy levels…this though, this seems to be almost easier than walking. Momentum keeps you going you know? Spencer can do it now. He seemed to teach himself. He watched me from behind as we travelled through the forests enough times. He observed. Spencer doesn't miss much. Not that sort of thing he doesn't. Anyway…I've never forgotten what those hunters taught me. I learned a lot from them.

It didn't stop me going to the white folks and telling them which paths the hunters took and where they'd stored their food so they'd survive the winter. It didn't stop me standing there with my musket in one hand and scalp in the other. It wouldn't have mattered. History is history. No point in looking back and regretting things now is there?

There was a lot more it didn't stop me doing, but maybe that's for another time. Right now I have to move quickly and swiftly and find Spencer. This place is so monotonous. The buildings are all the same. There is absolutely no variety here. Flat fronts with the glass blown out. Some doors open…some sealed behind metal grids…some behind metal screens. There are no cars abandoned in the roads. There are no birds in the sky. There is nothing. No sound. No movement apart from me and though there seems to be nothing else here sound doesn't seem to travel too well. There are the occasional side roads, but I've stopped and I've looked down them and they just lead out into what appears to be desert. There is just nothing here and the fact that I've not come across Spencer and Sam yet is bothering me.

I've sent a few messages to Sam and gotten nothing back. That means he's blocked me or he's been knocked senseless by Spencer and I really can't see that happening. Spencer is able to defend himself against a normal attack. He's not totally unable to look after himself. He's had training. He can defend himself just fine, but Sam would know that and Sam, well Sam is a little version of me…and I know what I'd do to Spencer.

I stop my strange half run half walk and look down the street. There is a funny churning in my stomach and I don't know if it's fear or the peaches but I don't like what it is I'm feeling. If Sam does to Spencer what I'd do then I'm way too late to help either of them. If Sam has done to Spencer what I'd do then I'm going to have to pop Sam's head off his shoulders.

And I'd have no regrets.

I wouldn't think twice about it.

I don't care if he is my spawn. I can replace him. I can make another Sam. Maybe that would be good anyway. Maybe I should do that.

I'm wasting time though. I have to find them and I know that they can't be much further away from me, yet this street is straight. There are no side roads to talk of. It must be ten miles long at least. What sort of crazy fucker makes a street like this across the bloody desert under a purple sun? Who in their right minds looked at this town planning and gave it a red tick?

I've been sneezing regularly and now the cough is coming back. It seems to ease it when I do my jog, so I set off again. I can't have missed him. If I had gotten that close I'd have sensed them both and there's been nothing.

I don't think there's been anything.

Maybe I've been distracted thinking of Big Hungry Wolf and Little River – especially Little River…he was sweet…in a lot of ways – but I'd have known if they were close.

-o-o-o-

I feel his fingers slide away from me and the strange noises and yelps he had started to make have stopped. My own fingers move shakily and slowly to my neck. I know I need to do something to stop the bleeding. I know I have to but there is a dread now of what I might find when I place my hands over the damage Sam has done to me. I'm not dead! I know that much. I can feel my heart thumping madly inside my chest. At least he's not managed to do too much damage there. I think it's just deep scratches. I'll find out later. For now I have to do something about this steady trickle of blood I can feel running down the side of my neck.

I feel sick and light headed and I'm still lying back on the ground with Sam under me. I'm going to stay like this for a while. At least I can attempt to keep him still if I stay like this; if he starts moving again. My fingers slide over the bloodied mess on the side of my neck and I can feel my pulse pumping my life out of me. The skin is ragged and torn but it seems it's not too deep. I don't think it's too deep anyway. It's not stopping me from taking short sharp breaths of panic though. I need to do something to stop the bleeding and so again with my shaking and now even more blood sticky hands I move to my shirt and begin to unbutton it. I have to be quick but the harder I try to speed up the more my fingers slip and shake on the buttons and refuse to do what I'm asking them to do. The prickling of tears of frustration are beginning to escape from behind my eyes and creep down the side of my face to join the blood oozing around my neck.

'Please.'

I mutter to my fingers.

'Please just do this for me.'

But they're refusing to listen to me. The shaking is increasing. My breathing is becoming less of proper breaths now and I know I'm hyperventilating and I know it might kill me if I let myself pass out here in this strange silent street but there's nothing I can do to stop it.

'Help me.'

I think I say those words but I'm not sure. I don't _hear_ me say them, but the sound of my panic is all I can hear now. And a strange grey fog is drifting across from the sides of my vision. I grab hold of the fabric of my shirt and attempt to just rip it open, but I can't do that either. And that fog is getting thicker and I don't know if I am actually breathing anymore. Not really. Not life saving breaths; just pathetic small gasps which are not going to help me in the slightest. I try tearing my shirt open again and I feel it give slightly.

A small bit of hope?

I pull harder but now it's not just my fingers and hands shaking. I can feel my whole body is.

_Help me!_

And I know for certain this time that I didn't say that. I sent that out as a scream in my head to anyone who can hear me. My shirt is partially torn open now but my brain won't let me continue with this task. I just can't do it. And I place my hands back over my neck again thinking that even if I _did _manage by some miracle to get it open I'd not be able to remove it anyway. There's too much blood. Just too much! And though Sam hasn't ripped into my arteries he's still done enough. I am still losing blood and I can feel it seeping out from between my fingers.

No one is going to help me though. Floyd is miles away with Hotch and Emily and there is no one else. I know that.

And so I let my hands fall from the wounds on my neck and force my body to roll off Sam and I make my shaking arms wrap around me and I pull my knees up close to my chest and with a long sigh I close my eyes and let the grey fog take me.

I tried.

I failed.

I'm sorry.

-o-o-o-

It was a physical jolt. So hard that it knocked me off my feet and sent me face first with a resounding smack onto the ground. It sent shockwaves all through my body and there was a vile popping ripping sound from my left shoulder, but that's not what made my eyes water. That's not why I just lay there for a while with my eyes shut tightly trying to push the pain back. No, it was the scream in my head. That call for help.

Slowly I look up and try to focus my eyes and look down the street I've been sort of running down. Still I can see nothing but damned shop fronts and dust. If another dust storm starts up we are finished. How could my cunning plan have turned to shit so swiftly? Ignoring the searing agony in my shoulder and now shooting down my arm I roll over and sit. I want these fucking things off my hands. I want to be able to feel like I can defend myself against something, but there's no defence against that scream in my head. It's echoing around in there like my brain has gone and my skull is the size of some ancient and long forgotten cathedral. It's agonisingly slow but I manage to get to my feet again which only now I realise have stopped tingling and buzzing and have come back to life again. I can't be far away. He has to be close, but where the fuck is he?

_I'm on my way._

I send back cautiously. I don't want that scream in my head. I don't want to hear that pain. Or that feeling of resignation. I squint down the road in the direction I need to go and start moving forward again firstly at a walk while I await another scream and then when nothing happens I break out into a run. Not my happy almost Injun run, but long almost (but not quite) panicked belt. After about ten minutes of this and with the feeling that I'm going to start screaming if I don't see him soon I do. At least I think I see him. Somewhere in the far distance there is something. Something different from the shop fronts and dirt. There is something at the side of the road. Just a speck is all I can see right now, but I know it's him. And I know that if I don't get there faster than I actually can then I'm going to lose him and I'm not going to accept that! Maybe it's not him. Maybe it's rubbish left behind in the distant past, but I don't think so. I can feel that pull now. I can feel Spencer and I can sense that Sam is there too.

It's at times like this that I wish for a teleport system. Well a teleport system which isn't going to spread my dainty molecules over all known and unknown universes anyway. I can't hear anything but that scream still whistling around in my head. I can't hear my feet pounding the road. I can't hear my heart thumping in my chest. I can't hear my hard deep breaths…all I can hear is Spencer in my head screaming for help.

Slowly…too slowly I can see that speck getting bigger. Now it looks like a pile of rubbish laid out for the bin men to take. It wavers and stutters in the heat waves coming of the dirt and I risk a glance upwards and see that purple sun looking down at me and if I don't get to him and get him out of this heat then he'll die anyway…whatever else has happened to him.

My neck hurts. This thing tied around my hands and up my back to my neck is pulling and chaffing and not making this any easier but that's not why I feel that pain. Somehow I know that is where my Spence has been hurt.

Now the still hot air is almost stifling. There is sweat running down my face and mixing with the blood which is still running happily from my nose. I can feel water running down my back and chest and I'm not sure if it's the heat from that sun or from the effort I am putting into getting to that lump of junk as quickly as I can.

I can see it's a person now. Laying on his side. Curled up. I know it's Spencer. I can tell as much from the pull, the lure, as from what I can see. I want to call out to him. I want him to know I am nearly there, but I don't. I need to keep that energy to actually get to him. I can smell blood and that makes my stomach hitch and my feet stumble but I keep going; blinking the sweat out of my eyes…I keep going until I am almost there; until I can see that blood and I can see that Sam is there too and until I realise that even if I do get there in time to save the day and be the hero of the day (again) I cant do anything to help him with my fucking hands tied up behind my back.

So I am doing nothing.

I am just standing looking at him and you really don't want to know what words are going on inside my head now, what profanities I am shouting out in my mind, but I can assure you that half of them you'd not even understand.

'Spence?' Finally I talk…and finally I move forward and slide down to my knees next to him. I give Sam a quick glance and can see his chest moving up and down so I know he's still with us for now…well that carrier is…I don't know if Sam is still inside there or not. 'Spence?' I can see that something has ripped at his neck and I'm sure it was Sam. Who else would it have been? It's more or less what I would have done to him, but I'd have made sure that there was no chance of survival, whereas here I can see his shaking body and I can see the rich fresh redness of that blood. And I can smell urine. 'Spence! Wake up!' I shout this in his ear.

The smell of a fresh kill. That's what I can smell, only he's still with us. Just about still with us and there is nothing I can do to help him. I wriggle my arms as best I can but there's no fucking way I can get out of this. 'Spence wake up Babes and give me a hand here. I need you to untie me.' I lick him quickly across the ear in the hopes that it'll do something, but there's no reaction and so I crawl around on my knees and go to Sam. There's blood over his face. It looks like someone head butted him and it makes me smile slightly. 'Sam wake the fuck up.' And again nothing. 'Wake up you little shit and get out of the sun. You'll die there.' And I scrabble to my feet and prod him hard with my toe in his ribs.

'Stop it!' Sam snaps at me. 'Leave me alone you bastard.'

I don't like that Sam might have to be the one who saves the day, but sometimes you have to let things go and just go with the flow.

'Good lad. Get up and untie me.'

'I'm dying.' He tells me in a pathetic whimper.

'You'll be more than bloody dead boy if you don't get up out of the dirt and untie me.'

'Just leave me alone!' Those blank dark eyes are looking right at me.

'Sam. You attacked Spencer. Now I need you to get control of yourself and push those bastards inside of you back and I need you to untie me so I can help Spence. If he dies here because of what you did then we are both very dead. Terminally dead. Forever gone…and never to be re-spawned. Do you understand me?'

'But….'

'No buts…no excuses now. You will get up out of your own shit and piss and you will untie me now!' I prod him hard again. 'Before I fucking rip you apart like you did Spence.'

I watch as he moves slowly to get to his feet. He looks different. He looks small and young…he looks vulnerable and weak. He looks like Sam and not like the monsters inside of him. I turn my back to him and step back. 'Now reach out and untie these things as quickly as you can.'

'I can't see!' that whining is really bugging me.

'I don't care Sam. I don't give a flying fuck right now. You can do this. You will do this because your life depends on it. Understand me Sam? Are you comprehending what I'm saying?'

I don't get a verbal answer but I feel his fingers working their way over the shredded shirt holding my arms back in such a fucking painful position.

And it makes me think of Agent Aaron Hotchner. And it makes me hope that the bastard is dead. I can feel teeth nibbling at the bonds and lots of huffing and puffing coming from Sam and I can feeling him pulling and twisting the cloth until finally after what seems to be hours my hands are free and I can feel his smaller hands on mine and slowly he is pulling them down to my sides.

'You've got a broken arm.' He tells me…and then as his fingers work their way over my arms and up to my shoulders. 'And a dislocated shoulder.'

But I've no time to worry about such trivialities. I need to get Spencer fixed. 'Help me move him out of this heat.' I want to move my hand down to grab him but my arms are hanging uselessly at my sides. I've no feeling in them and glancing down at them I can see that my hands are swollen and have gone a very nasty colour which would match that of the sun beautifully. 'Help him Sam!' If you want me to even begin to start forgiving you for all this then you help him now.'

'And you think he did nothing to me?! You think that being blind and, and, and having these things inside me is pleasurable? Do you!'

The little shit is shouting at me.

'He head butted me!'

'You tried to rip out his throat…now Sam, I'm not going to ask you again. Move him into the shade. Lay him on his side. I need to fix this shit up. There's another sand storm coming. We have to get off the road now or we'll get our flesh ripped off us by the elements. Now Sam. Move it!'

He rubs at his nose which I admit does look sore, but the boy let those things control him. It was his error…not Spencer's and I'm not going to let him forget this in a hurry. He moves over to Spence and maybe that's a slight flash of guilt on his face, but it also might have been lust, or greed; hard to tell sometimes, but he takes one of Spencer's hands and starts to slowly and laboriously drag him out of this blasting heat and over to the smashed in door of one of these many stores.

'So you didn't find a hospital?' I'm watching him carefully. Watching every move he makes. Watching as he changes direction slowly and moves towards the darkness. I make note of that slight hesitation as he pulls Spencer to the dark. I see his hand come up and push against the door frame. I stand with my head cocked slightly to one side and my limp fucking crapped out arms and hands down at my side.

He can see.

The little fucker can see.

I'm not going to let him know that I've sussed that little fact out. I'm going to let him carry on pretending. See how long he can keep it up for. The little shit.

He's at least got Spencer out of the sun and into a place a bit more sheltered. I kick the broken door shut again, not that I need to. There's no glass in it anyway, but it feels good to kick a door shut every now and then. Sam drops Spencer's hand and pushes him onto his side. He then starts undoing the shirt thing he's wearing and pulls it off his dirty little skinny body. It's not a problem with me. It's just Hotchner who seems to be reviled by the sight of a young naked man, except he looks a whole lot like just some scrawny kid now. I suppose lack of food and getting smacked around too much can do that to someone.

'Get out of the way and keep that shirt to cover your face when the storm arrives.'

He nods at me and moves with a lot of grace considering the circumstances out of the way and towards the corner of this room, which may or may not have at one point had things of interest to someone in. Now though it's empty of anything except dust. I lay down next to Spencer and I think that might have been my dislocated arm I'm laying on, but it's going to have to just stay that way for now. Empty my head of that stinking pain and concentrate on Spencer. Very slowly I move my right arm around him and place it on his chest.

'I'm here Babes. All's going to be just fine.'

I feel that instinctive push backwards that he always gives me and that fills my heart with such pleasure that I want to fuck him…but I don't. I'll save it for when he's awake. Or I could do him like this too…it's nice…to have someone so compliant, but there's other things I have to do first. I move my hand back away from him and he makes a slight _aarr _sound and I tell him I'm still here. 'I'm going to fix you. I'm here. I heard you call me. Everything's going to be just fine.' I scrabble around quickly in my pocket and pull out a small twist of cellophane. It's not easy only having one hand to do this with and that hand isn't being very well behaved. It's still numb and sleepy and stubborn, but I force my fingers to take just small pinch of grey powder and then I reach over Spencer. 'Deep breath in Babes.' I tell him and I know he will without question. It's not the drug he wants. It's not the one he's craving, it's better! This will instantly cure him of any other craving he ever had, but it might turn him into a Floyd junky. Worse things happen at sea…so they say. Once I hear that sigh again from him and feel him relax and snuggle against me I take a load myself…and with my arm wrapped around him again tightly we drift off together to look at rainbows and run from the pygmies and to sing mmmbop under a waterfall….

Sam is watching.

He thinks I don't know.

But he'll not dare do anything. Not when I'm here.

He knows better than to try something with me.

And I bury my head into the back of Spencer's neck and I know that at least for now everything is going to be great.

Worry about the rest of this crap when …

The

Rainbows…………..my god they're beautiful….

* * *


	11. It Was Good

**a/n: well I was going to give up on this and I started something else, but this is what I enjoy writing. This is coming from my gut and my soul and so it will be this fic that I will continue for now. Thank you!!! Pb xox**

* * *

Part eleven: It Was Good.

* * *

It was the smack in the face that did it. I don't know how, but I can see again. Not as good as I'd like to and I don't know how long it's going to last but I can for now. I wonder if it's because of this _understanding_ I now have with the things inside me. We sort of made a deal you see. Maybe not one I'll be able to keep but it's keeping them happy for now. Not so happy that they're going to go away and leave me, but happy enough it seems that they're going to let me see a bit. It's like looking through a dirty window; a wet dirty window. I can see shapes and I can see colour and light and dark and stuff, but not real small details. Maybe if I keep up this appearance that I'm doing what they want it will get better? I dunno. What I _do _know is that this is a whole lot better than not being able to see at all. I have to keep it from dad though. He'll guess. He will know what I've done.

I'm not proud of it! Really I'm not. But I'm just a kid! And I seem to be regressing and getting younger! But that's something I can deal with in my own way. I'll sort that with them later. I wasn't lying when I said that I was in pain. It's excruciating! It's ripping right the way through me and if I didn't know better and know that now it's too late and I can do nothing about it, I'd be trying to rip them out of me. I can feel them crawling around inside me. And when I start to have doubts…too many doubts I feel them twisting and digging and squeezing and I don't bloody well like it! I don't like them hurting me like this! Dad says he understands and that I have to fight it, but it's so much easier said than done.

I watch them for a while and I want to snuggle with them too. I don't like being left out like this. I want to curl up behind dad or sneak in between the two of them…yes that last idea is the one which makes me tingle the most. I want to snuggle between them and feel Spencer's heat and feel him press against _me_ and I want to in turn press myself back and feel someone there. Someone who is there because they want to be, someone who will still be there when I wake up again, you know? Someone I don't have to pay. I throw my dirty soiled shirt to the side and start to crawl slowly over towards them. I want to breathe in those special smells too. I want to be loved. No, I want to be needed. No, not even that! I just don't want to be left out. I want to be a part of this, this, whatever it is. I want to feel Spencer press against me. I want to feel Floyd, not my dad, but Floyd, I want him behind me and smelling me and needing to comfort me! Where is my comfort?

I'm in touching distance now and the wind outside is howling. I can see the movement of their bodies as they breathe in time with each other and move so very slightly so you can hardly see it…but they move like one big creature…they breathe like they are not two people but one. I crawl around a bit so that I can see Spencer's face and his eyes are shut and his mouth is slightly open. I watch that mouth for a little while and then look further down. I squint my eyes up trying to get my eyes to work better but they still distort everything slightly. I can feel my breaths are getting deeper but harder. Damnit. I want to be a part of this! Why does he leave me out every time? Why does he treat me like a dog when I'm just as good as he is! I want to meld with them and be like one! I want to be included.

Slowly I crawl around a bit and get a closer look at dad. They're both drugged. I know that. They are off somewhere in their heads healing and so this might be the only chance I ever get; especially is he figures out that I made a deal with the others. I'll never have another chance for anything if he works that out and really I expect him to. He's a long way from being stupid, even if he does disguise that very well sometimes.

I place a hand on dad's shoulder and give him a slight push and he moans and moves back just a little bit. I watch for Spencer to move back and just for now he doesn't. I'm a skinny kid. There's not much of me and the gap dad has made is plenty big enough for me to squirm into. I slide down and lay on my side with my back to dad and my front to Spencer and then I take dad's arm and move it so it's around me and not that FED and I wrap my own arm around him. I can't heal as well as dad can, but tough. I want something. I deserve something. I have needs too…and I want them met. I don't care if they don't know what they're doing. I don't care one little shit if they don't realise it's me. I want it. I want it so bad that my fingers go into claws as they touch Spencer. I can still smell his blood and other fluids. I can smell his sweat and lust and damnit…I press back against Floyd….I have to think of him as Floyd now and not dad or it would be a bit sick maybe…well some people might think that anyway…so yeah…I push against Floyd and feel him press back against me and I feel Spencer press against my front and I block out the pain. I block out the sound of the wind and I move my dirty little fingers to where they shouldn't be…and I wriggle against my…against Floyd…

And it's not really much of a surprise when I get exactly what I want!

It's _not_ rape.

Not really.

He wanted it as much as I did.

But I realise that I have to get out and go back to my corner. This time I will. This time I'll just take what I want from these two bastards…these two who I'm going to fuck with all I want then see die…it's the only way! If there was another way I'd do it…but they just offered me too many candies.

And I guess I'm easily corruptible.

I slide back out from between them and crawl back to my corner and pull that dirty shirt over my body and head…and I close my eyes…and wrap my arms around myself. I'm completely sated and when my eyes close I'm asleep straight away…and I make plans in my sleep.

-o-o-o-

'Hey.'

I open my eyes and look at the back of Spencer's head. I've been waiting for him to wake up. The bleeding has stopped. For now. And he's talking. That's all I needed to know really. I give the back of his neck a long greedy lick and them move carefully so as not to bash my damaged arm and shoulder on anything and whisper into his ear.

'Welcome back Babes. I want you to stay right where you are for now. Don't move OK? Just stay there. Something I have to sort out first.'

He wriggles a bit closer to me but I move back out of the way.

'Don't go.' His voice is dry and but still sweet.

'I'm just going over the other side of the room. I'll still be able to see you, but I don't want you to move. Promise me.'

'Fine. I'll stay here.'

I run fingers through his hair. My hand seems to be the right shape, size and colour now which is good. It aches like fuck though. It's going to take a while to get it working properly again. Well as well as it used to anyway. And that makes me hope that Hotchner and Prentiss choked to death a miserable slow painful death in the dirt during the storm, but for now I roll away from Spencer and stand up. My left arm is still just hanging at my side and I need someone to help me fix that, but something else has to be done first. I walk over to where Sam is huddled under the shirt he'd been wearing and I crouch down and pull it back off his face.

'I know what you did.' I hiss at him. I don't want Spencer to hear any of this.

'When?'

Does he look nervous? He bloody better. 'I know what you did.' I repeat.

'So you said, but when? I've done lots of stuff in my life time.'

'Keep your voice down.' And I go from my crouch to sitting with my legs crossed. 'I might have been playing with the pygmies with grey dust up my nose but I still know what you did.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' He blinks.

'I know what you did to Spencer and I know what I did to you and I think we need to keep that between the two of us for now.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' He shuffles around but his eyes keep flitting back to me.

'You know. You know what I'm talking about. I'll not deny that it was good, but it's not to happen again without my permission.'

'I'll not deny that it was good, but you shouldn't have done that.'

'You _knew _it was me?'

'I know everything Sam. Please don't underestimate me. I know what you are up to. I know you can see again and I know why. That's also something we are going to keep between the two of us.' I'm not sure I actually do know why, but I'm going to throw that in my guess basket and let him think I know.

'I don't understand.' He's sitting now and looking directly into my eyes.

'You screwed Spencer. I'm not very happy about that, but I understand that sometimes those bugs inside of you make you do things. I know all about that sort of thing and so we are going to pretend that it never happened. We are going to play act that you can't see because that will give Spencer something to latch his mind onto. He needs that.'

'And you screwed me! And you knew it was me and you still did it!'

I smile at him. 'You got a complaint? You didn't like what I gave you?'

He swallows hard as he thinks about his answer. 'I don't have a complaint as such, but….'

'No…no excuses boy. You have to keep control of those things inside you or I _will_ kill you and I won't make a hash of it as you did with Spence. I'll do it properly. You understand me? You touch Spencer like that again and I'll fucking rip your balls off and feed them to you as you scream. You comprehend my meaning?'

'I comprehend all right, but it's hardly fair as you seemed perfectly happy to stuff me.'

'You're mine…I'll do what I want with you. He's also mine and I'll do what I want with him. You however have nothing unless it's offered to you. Get me?'

He pulls that grotty shirt tighter around him. 'You threatening me?'

'No Sam, it's a promise. Think of it as something to look forward to.'

'But you can't do that! You're my dad!'

I nod at him then frown and shake my head. 'No, you Sam are my spawn. Big difference.'

'You're a fucking pervert!'

I move my good hand over to him and brush stray hair out of his face. 'Well I kill people for pleasure. I love to see pain. I eat my victims…I feed bits of them to my friends…yes probably I'm a bit on the perverted side…what the hell did you expect? You thought you'd offer your little arse to me and I'd not know? You thought you'd be able to do that and I'd not want more of it? You took a bigger knock to your head than I thought you did.' I push back slightly away from him. 'Now you will get my shoulder back into place for me. I'll tell you what to do, you just need to pull and press down on that lump of bone on my shoulder. Just remember that my arm's broken, so don't go pulling below the break.'

'Fuck you! Get Spencer to do it!'

But he does what I tell him. The kid is scared now. He's going to be keeping his arse away from me for a while I think.

I don't like the way he's shielded his mind. He's up to something more than this little game he played when I was doped. I will find out. And it has something to do with his regained sight. I might be good, but I'm not so good that I give sight back to the blind.

Or maybe I am.

'AARRRR shit fuck bastard!' I scream between clenched teeth as my arm makes another nasty popping sound and the shoulder pops back into place.

-o-o-o-

I can hear them talking, but I can't make out what they're saying. Just the occasional word or two. I can tell that Floyd's not happy and I can tell that Sam's not too pleased either. I move my hands up to my neck and stroke over the wounds. They are open and sore, but not bleeding. For a little while I lay and try to work out what the two of them are talking about, but my mind soon drifts and sharp flashes of memory shoot across my mind. Memories of some sort of hallucination when I was drugged.

It felt good, I know that much, but the images are strange and maybe even a bit too bright. I feel relaxed though and for a change I actually feel happy. Floyd's sudden shout of pain brings me back to now and I turn to look at what's going on. Floyd is standing holding his left arm tightly to his chest and Sam is standing looking very grumpy next to him.

'I'm fine.' He says. Though I don't think he's saying it to me. More to convince himself I would imagine. I smile and I get a half smirk back from him and then he starts to walk over to me.

'Broken arm hurts like shit.' He says as he sits down. 'It'll be able to heal now.' And I get another small almost but not quite smile.

'Floyd.' I want to say something to him but he places a finger over my lips.

'Not now Spence. We seem to have slept through the hottest part of the day. We can get moving again now.'

I still need to say something to him though. 'I know.' Is all I say.

'Ah…' He replies.

'Thank you. It was erm…good.'

And now his relaxed face gets a frown across it. 'Good? It was _good?_'

I've said something wrong. I misread his mood. 'I'm sorry Floyd. More than just good. You know that.'

'More than good? You enjoyed it?'

I smile at him and nod. 'Of course I did.'

He stands and looks down at me. 'Fucking wonderful. That's brilliant Spence! Thank you so fucking much!'

And I'm on my feet now too. 'I don't know what gets in to you sometimes!' I shout at him. Oh god I shouted at him. I take a few quick steps back out of the way.

'You!' He's pointing a finger at me and I can see the rage in his face. It's distorting that lovely face and making it look almost demonic. 'You don't know what gets into me?! You're having a laugh with me!' Jabbing the finger in my direction. 'You stupid fucking shit for brains!' His voice echoes around the room we are in. He shakes his head vigorously and dust and dirt goes flying. 'You have no bloody clue! You damned ungrateful son of a bitch! You enjoyed it?! You liked it?! You did like it didn't you Spence? You really loved it didn't you?'

I don't respond. I don't know if I should be nodding my head or shaking it so I do nothing.

'Tell me how much you enjoyed it Spence! Tell me! I so want to know. Tell me!' The hand has dropped and is now in a clenched fist. 'Come on now, don't shy away from me know Babes. Tell me how good it was.' His voice drops now to a deep threatening whisper. 'Best you've ever had was it? Better than last time? Want it like that again do you?'

Again I stay silent. Whatever he wants me to say is a complete mystery. He carries on though and as he does Sam walks over and touches him on the arm.

'You bastard!' Floyd shouts at me and I look down at Sam's hand on his arm and see that there is blood dripping from between his fingers. He must have cut his hand with his fingernails. 'You dirty fucking whore! That's all you are! I don't know why I bothered doing this shit! You get me killed. You get me dragged out of that place by my, my, by my head. You got my fucking neck broken and I damned well forgave you. I let it go Spence. I'm all for forgiving you for doing that! But this?! This is beyond the pale. Why I've not just ripped your head off and fucked your dead arse is beyond me! Why?' He turns to look at Sam. 'Get off me you stupid greedy little shit. Get the fuck off me. Don't you bloody touch me!' These words directed at Sam and now I'm totally lost. I have no idea what I've said wrong.

'Floyd I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to say! I was high. You drugged me.'

'I was saving your sorry arse life! Which is more than you did for me.' Turning now to Sam. 'Get off me boy before I break your skull and eat your dirty little brain. Just don't you touch me. Either of you. Don't you fucking come near me unless I ask you to. Do you both understand me? You're just meat. You're nothing. You dirty….' He takes a step towards me. 'little…' Another step. 'Slut.' His face is so close to mine now that I can feel his lips touching me and smell and feel his breath on my face. 'You're nothing more than a little whore. I don't know what I see in you. You used to be such a nice clean boy. Such a lovely person. What the fuck happened to you?' I want to tell him that it was HIM that happened to me, but I don't. I want to lick my lips, but I would be in contact with him with my tongue and I daren't do that. His bloodied hand reaches up and pushes first his hair behind his ears and then he winds a finger around a lock of my hair and then lets go of it. 'What happened to you Babes? Why are you such a dirty little whore?' And it is Floyd who licks his lips and makes contact with mine, but whereas normally he'd then deliver a deep groin tingling kiss, this time he steps back and turns to Sam and I see that clenched fist again and I thought he was going to hit Sam, but he doesn't. He just looks at him for a while and then walks away from us. Walks away towards to exit and out into the daylight again.

'Sam?' I whisper to him.

'What?!' He replies and runs after his dad with what looks like bits of the shirt wrapped around him as a breach clout.

* * *


	12. Lies

Part twelve: Lies

* * *

We have been walking in a straggly line for about an hour now; side by side but with enough distance between us to be out of touching range. To my right is Sam and then Floyd. We walk in silence with only the occasional muttering from Floyd when Sam lags behind a bit.

'I'd rather you took the lead. I don't want you walking behind us.' Floyd tells him and he gets a snappy reply back.

'Well I cant _daddy_, cos I can't see fuck all now can I?'

'Then keep up. You're not stupid, you managed to do considerable damage to Reid. Your lack or vision wasn't a hindrance then now was it?'

I stop walking and just stare at Floyd. I don't know if he's ever called me _Reid _before. That's something reserved for work. He also stops and turns to look at me; he still has a tight hold of his arm.

'What's wrong now?' He's asking me and I don't know how to answer again. I know that anything I say will be the wrong thing.

'You need to splint your arm.' I say slowly looking carefully for any change in his expression or posture. 'It will get infected.'

His mouth goes into a slight snarl. 'What the hell would you care if it did? We've a long way to go and I don't have time to waste standing here chatting, walk and talk or shut the fuck up.' He turns again and gives Sam a quick kick up the backside and then starts walking again. With a small sigh I jog slightly to catch up again and then resume my walk.

'We won't get to that by nightfall.' Floyd suddenly says after about another hour of silent walking.

'Get to what?' Sam asks.

'That thing. I think it's a bridge.'

I can see Floyd is looking at something but I can't make out what. Though over here, wherever _over here _is I don't seem to need my glasses, my eyesight is obviously not as good as Floyd's.

'I'm sure it's a bridge.' He corrects.

I take a step forward and shield my eyes from the sun. 'I can't see anything.'

Floyd looks over at me. 'Didn't expect you to. You don't believe me? You doubt me?'

Quickly I shake my head. 'No, I just meant that you have very good eyesight.'

'Fucking liar. You don't believe me. My eyesight is shit. You know that.'

I don't know that. Though I have seen him in glasses more than once. I assumed that they were just one of his strange affectations and were for show more than to aid his vision.

I don't bother saying anything. As I thought, nothing I say will be the right thing. It's really best for me to just keep quiet until he recovers from whatever is bothering him. I'm thirsty, but we have no water and I don't think we will be going down into any basements searching for stuff, not after what happened to…

'Where's Hotch and Prentiss?' Why had I not been thinking of them earlier?

'I left them in the gutter. They'll be able to flip back if they think about it. I'm far enough away now. Don't worry your slutty little head about it sweetheart. Your precious Aaron will be just fine. That's if nothing comes and eats them while they sit moaning about their lot in the dirt.' And he is off on a rant again. 'The worst place someone could think of to sit and do fuck all and that's where they decide to sit. They could have come with me. They could have followed. I half expected Emily to at least, but Hotchner has corrupted her.' He stops and turns to Sam. 'Boy get me a smoke from my front pocket.'

And Sam walks over to him and does what he asks. 'Can I have one too?'

'You can have nothing. I'm not wasting my stuff on a disloyal Fucktard like you.' He accepts the smoke between his lips and puffs deeply as the click, click of the lighter burns the end of the foul smoke. 'Put my lighter back in my pocket. I don't want you setting fire to me when we sleep.'

'Floyd?' I need to know something now.

'What is it now you bloody pest?'

I let out a sigh and then ask. 'What is this _nexus_ place we are going to?'

'Ah, good question.'

But he doesn't answer it at first. Either because he doesn't know or because he feels I don't need to know. Then suddenly he starts to talk in a distant far away voice of someone recalling a memory. Not necessarily a good one.

'There's this bloke from a long time ago called something which doesn't really matter. They just called him _The Middle Man_. Not cos he was a dealer or anything, but cos he stood in the centre of everything. He stood there butt naked all day and all night and held it in his hands. Held this thing in his hands…a thing which looked like a glowing stone. At night it reflected off the stars and made them glow brighter. During the day it reflected off the sun and shot rays of rainbows and well, glittering shit, all over the universe.'

I listen to this fairy tail carefully looking for truths amongst the story.

'Well one day some things they came along and they told him that his time was up and he had to swap his stone for something else and hand the magical stone over to them. Obviously being as ancient as all the universes out there he knew better and so refused and to stop these things from getting close to him and taking the stone he created a moat around himself so that he stood on a small hill surrounded by this mother fucking ditch which, the rumours say, goes straight down to Hades.'

'Oh.' Is all I can think of to say.

'I'm not finished. This place is called the Nexus cos it's where life starts.'

'Life starts next to a ditch going down to Hades?'

Floyd has turned and is looking at me now. 'Seems so, though not everyone believes that's where it goes. It does. I can promise you. The bloke is real though. The moat is real. The stone is real. The nexus is real. It's what holds everything together.'

'Why are we going there?'

'I just said. It's where life starts.'

'We're not dead though. I'm in a drugged coma somewhere. I'm not dead.'

I get a half smirk from him now. 'It's not all about you Spence. The universe revolves around that glowing stone not you. You'll do well to remember that. I'm going back there to get _my_ life back and maybe Sam's.'

'Back? You've been there before?'

And again I get a smirk and his face seems to have relaxed from that rage it showed earlier. 'Yup, back.'

'You don't want to listen to a word he says. He's a liar. He can't help himself. The nexus is a big hole in the ground where the demons throw things to get favours back in return.' Sam chimes up and I spin to look at him. 'He has been there before though.' And now Sam chuckles. 'He got his own perverted butt thrown down there…and not by the demons either!'

'Shut the fuck up Sam.' And that look is on Floyd's face again.

'Why don't you tell him the damned truth for once?! Why can't you admit what you are?'

'You want to die here? You want that?'

'You _know_ what I want _daddy._ And I'm going to keep on taking it or I'm going to tell dear Spencer here everything. And I mean everything. And you won't kill me because you need me! You need me to trade. You think I don't know that? You think I don't know why you tried to bring all those damned agents over with you? You must think I'm a fucking moron. Why don't you tell Spencer here exactly what is going on?'

Floyd just stares at Sam but says nothing. He then glances over at me. 'The nexus is a hole in the ground. A great place for picnics and parties. Don't forget to bring condoms and lube.' Floyd then turns from me and resumes his walk towards what he says is a bridge.

-o-o-o-

I know that there is a bridge there. It's not going over the road we are walking on. It's going to take us across and onto the next part of the journey we are on. I can see the way the road changes and I can see what seems to be brick or stone piled up, or maybe it's a wall. I cant really tell from here and I know that we're not going to make it there before it's dark and we don't want to be walking over that thing, over that bridge which separates where we are now from the next place in the dark and I do want to see exactly what it is that the bridge spans.

We all need water and I wasn't able to bring any with me and Spencer and Sam haven't got any but that's ok. We'll be better off once we get over the bridge. Things will be different there. I damned well hope things will be different there.

The problem I am not considering though is what to do when it's time for Spencer to sleep. I'm going to be holding tight and I'm not going to allow Sam to mess around with us again which means no sleep for me. Yes, yes I know I don't need to sleep as such, but it would be nice you know? It would speed up the healing on my arm. Sam will sleep. I'm sure of that, but I'm going to have to remain awake and alert. I can't afford to take my snort and I've got a nasty tingling at the back of my nose which is letting me know that I'm going to have another flooder of a nose bleed any time soon. The smokes stop it. They stop that happening so much, but it means having to ask for Sam or Spence to get the smokes for me and I don't want to appear like I need them.

I don't need them.

I don't need any fucking one. I could do this alone. I stop walking and close my eyes and think about things for a while. How did something as simple as taking Spence on holiday to England end up with us here. How did it end up with me in such a fucking state? My neck hurts. It's been hurting for a few hours now and I want to rub at it with my hand but that would mean letting go of my arm.

When the time eventually came for us to find somewhere to bunk down for the night I think we could probably all see where the road changes and becomes a bridge. I decide. I don't leave it for those two numbskulls to even think about anything, but I decide that it's time to stop and I decide where we are going to hunker down for the dark period. I'll call it night time just for the ease of understanding, but it's not really night. The purple sun just seems to drift away in a random direction and that's it. As the light starts to fade I let my damaged arm drop and reach out and take Sam's hand and lead him to the side of the road. I call back to Spencer who has stopped walking and is looking around himself probably wondering what's going to come out and bite him in the arse next.

'I've things to talk to Sam about.' I tell him 'Wait there.' And I pull Sam sort of out of ear shot of Spencer.

'What's wrong now?' He asks me. He sounds tired which is good.

'I just need to tell you that there will be no repeat of what happened last time. You will keep your hands to yourself. Pleasure yourself all you want. I don't care, but I am warning you just this last time to keep those dirty hands off Spencer.'

I watch as his mouth tightens and his eyes go sort of slitty and he speaks in a soft gentle voice back at me. 'He wasn't that good anyway.' He says to me. 'And you were rather lacking too. No wonder he preferred what I did to him.'

I let go of him and wrap my hand around his neck and pick him up. I can see his eyes go big and round and his mouth open and then shut suddenly. I want to run my tongue over that little mouth. I want him so bad that it's making my balls ache. I've not even had this sort of reaction from Spencer for a long time now. I've become complacent with him. I've become lazy. Things have become, I guess, boring. Sam…though, this is something new and something seedy and dirty and perverted and it's making me want him all the more for that. I look at that mouth for a bit longer and then just throw him against the wall behind him. I watch as he bounces off and lands in a lump on the floor. I look back up and see the splodge of blood on the wall. I hear Spencer shout something from behind me and I hear his feet running behind me and then by me and then over to Sam.

'What the hell is wrong with you?!' Spencer is looking back over his shoulder at me as I just stand and look at the red mark the back of Sam's head made on the wall.

'Nothing, Babes. I'm just tired I guess.'

'Tired? You could have killed him.' His hands are all over Sam and I don't like it, but I don't stop it either.

'You wouldn't understand.' I mutter.

'Try me. Tell me what the hell is going on with you and I'll try to understand. I'll try to work out why you just did this.'

I shake my head at him. 'No Babes. Pick him up and come with me. I'll give you something to help you relax.' And I see that look of his pass over his face. That look which not many people get to see, but I know only too well. It's that look of need and greed and lust and want. It's the look of a junky being offered his fix.

I tell Spence where to plonk Sam down; at the side of this old abandoned shop, in the shadows. I don't want to have to look at him. He's breathing. He's alive and I feel a soft deep rage about that. I wish he would just damned well die. He's going to be trouble when he's older. I'm going to have a shit load of trouble from that one. I do have to also admit that the pain in my arm is becoming something of a worry. Spencer is right of course. I need to get it fixed some how. I look over at him fussing over Sam and that bubbling anger begins to build up inside of me. Why can't he just stop touching him? Does he realise it was Sam last night. Does that slut want more from him?

'Spencer!'

I shout at him and he spins around in his crouch so fast that he almost falls. He puts his hands out to balance himself and looks at me with half closed tired eyes, but he doesn't say anything.

'Don't.'

I say to him and that pretty face of his gets a puzzled look to it. 'Don't what?' He's standing and wiping his hands on the side of his trousers.

'Don't touch him like that. I don't want you touching him.'

That puzzled look deepens. 'You told me to bring him in here. I couldn't do that without touching him.' His mouth is hard and angry to match that frown.

'Learn to fucking levitate then! I don't want you touching him. It looks…it looks like you're molesting him.' Of course it didn't, but I need to say something to keep the slut's hands away from the boy. Spencer spins to look at Sam and then turns quickly back to me.

'Well it's only us here and you know better than to think that.'

I don't. I don't know better, but I don't say anything more on this subject. Maybe it's better to let him brood on it a bit. Maybe he'll finally realise what happened. Maybe it'll sink in through that thick skull of his.

'I need something to splint my arm. Go and find something.' I snap at him and sit myself down on the floor with my legs crossed and my damaged arm in my lap. The break is a few inches above my wrist and the fingers wiggling is getting harder and I don't like the look of the colour of my hand. I really can do without getting some sort of, I dunno, some sort of rotting going on there. I need my left hand. It's my primary punching arm. How can I attack people with such finesse if they know where the first strike is going to come from? 'Hurry up Babes. When you get back I'll give you something to stop that little junky dance of yours.' He pushes his hair behind his ears and looks again at Sam and then at me and gives me a quick nod.

'You will kill him if you keep doing that to him. I don't know how he's still alive.'

'His skull is as thick as yours Babes. You've survived haven't you?'

He doesn't respond to this at all. He just turns in a pathetic little circle looking around him; hopefully it's for something to splint my arm with. I watch him for a while in the gathering gloom as the light begins to turn that odd green colour again. I watch him closely and I wonder what it is I see in him. Why I am so bloody obsessed with him. There are plenty of good looking blokes out there who'd be happy to bum around with me (pun intended) so why after trying out all those other pretty ones do I always come back to Spencer? Is it the safety of familiarity? Is it laziness? Or is there something there which is special? It's not that bonding. I could break that if I wanted. I could kill him and move on. It's not like one more error on my behalf is going to matter too much. I've gone too far down that slippery road now for one more mistake to make any difference to my personal salvation. There's something more. More than I felt for Anthony. I was given the order to kill and I did. I might not have liked it, but I did it anyway. Same with Little River. Same with all the others, but this is different. Spencer is special somehow and I can't put my finger on what it is. I watch as he bends down and I watch the way he moves. I can't take my damned eyes off him. It's hypnotising and in some ways it is wondrous and almost dreamlike in its beauty and in other ways I am almost afraid of it. The lure is so damned strong.

I hate what Sam did.

I think I hate what Sam did.

I'm really not sure. I like that he sullied Spencer in such a way. It makes my heart thump harder as I think about how angry Spencer would be if he knew. If he knew that I knew. It makes him even dirtier. It makes him a perverted freak.

It makes him more like me.

Oh and yes I lied about the bloody nexus. What's the point in telling him what it is? There will be more questions and ones I don't want to answer. Ones I can't face answering yet. I don't know if I'd ever be able to, but I don't want to talk to him about it. I don't want to think about what is going to happen when we all get there because to be honest…maybe…I don't know what's going to happen. Not really. I have a rough idea and it puts a weight of something which might almost be panic into the pit of my stomach.

He's walking over to me now and dropping some lengths of metal on the floor in front of me.

'I'll use my shirt.' His voice sounds too loud and his face looks too wonderful. I want to dope myself up and escape, but I can't do that. I don't trust Sam. I don't trust him further than I can throw him.

I just made myself grin.

'Thanks.' Is what I say though and Spencer kneels down in front of me and bites on his bottom lip.

'It's going to hurt.'

'I know.'

'You won't attack me if I hurt you?'

'I might. It's a risk you'll have to take.' But I'm smirking at him.

'I'll be ready for you.'

'I like you best when you're not prepared.'

And now he's smirking back at me and undoing his shirt. 'Can you resist me if I take this off?'

'Absolutely not.'

'I'm going to have to chance it.'

'Go for it Babes. I'll do my very best not to pounce on you.'

He is gentle, well as gentle as he can be. And it does hurt but only for a short while. Where my shoulder was dislocated there is a nasty black bruise. His fingers move lightly over it. Almost like a butterfly, not quite touching, but yet I can still feel it. Only just. He leans in and gives it a light kiss and it makes me wonder if Spencer has the same puzzled thoughts about me as I do him. I know he's been with other blokes. I know he has enjoyed the company of lots of others, but it's me he comes back to the way I come back to him.

'We are like two old married men.' I suddenly say and his hands which were strapping the short metal bars to my arm stop and he looks up at me right in the eye.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean we are too comfortable with each other. Too lazy. Too familiar. I have to slap you around just to get my adrenaline flowing.'

His hands resume their twisting and tying of the ripped up shirt. 'You think I don't need you anymore?'

I bite on my bottom lip now as he pulls my arm across me and makes a sling to rest my arm on and take the pressure off my shoulder.

'I know you don't need me.'

And he stands up and looks down at me. 'Then you're wrong. Right now you might need me more, at least in a medical sense, but emotionally I need you.'

'You can find someone else.' I test him with my words. I want to know what's going on in his head after the Sam fiasco, even if he doesn't know about that particular incident.

'I don't want to. I'm happy the way things are. Well not right now. I don't like being here. I don't like that you're hurt. I don't like what's going on, but for the most part I'm happy. Are you not satisfied anymore? Is this what it's all about?'

I get to my feet and stand closely in front of him and lean forward slightly so I can talk directly into his ear. 'Would you die for me?' I ask him and then stand back so I can see his face. He doesn't answer me though. He looks over at Sam and then back at me and blinks a few times and sighs. Has he guessed why he's here with me?

That dark period I give him just a small pinch of dust for his nose. Enough for him to go and see the rainbows but not enough to keep him in happy land for hours. I want him to sleep. I want him to feel refreshed in the morning. I need to hold him and smell that lovely smell of sleep and press my face into the back of his neck and feel that lovely pressing of his body against mine. I'll hold him and feel his heart beating and those wonderful sleep filled breaths and I'll be there if he has a nightmare and I'll be able to move my hand over him and issue hushed words in his ear to calm him down and pull him back again.

Yes it's a loving tender moment.

Don't let that fool you.

I've not gone soft.

* * *


	13. The Bridge

Part thirteen: The Bridge.

* * *

The morning showed me a groggy Sam and a rested Spencer. Thirst though was beginning to get to them both. Hunger was secondary to that dry parched feeling though. Luckily there was no dust storm that night. I think it's because of our proximity to the bridge. Once over there things will be different. I hope things will be different. I'm taking a calculated guess here, but I reckon that the bridge will take us to a whole new place and hopefully that place will have water. Maybe even a bit of wildlife. The bruise on my shoulder has worked its way over the side of my neck and across the back of my shoulder and part way down my arm, but it's not looking as livid and dark as it was before the rest stop.

Maybe today things will feel different. Maybe today I will feel more like my old self. Whatever that is. We walk again in our straggly line. I have a hold on Sam's hand though. Seems that the knock on his head makes him walk off to the left in a zigzag tangent to the rest of us. Spencer is being quiet. I don't know if it's because he has nothing intelligent to say or if he's pissed off with me still. I'm thinking it's the latter but hoping it's the former.

The bridge creeps up on us it seems. Once minute it just looks like a pile of rubble in the distance and the next I at least can make out the broken down turrets which marked it'd beginning on this side of the whatever it is it's spanning. Time is difficult to keep tabs on here. I have no real idea how long we walk for until we can all see what it is we have to cross to get to the other side. The sun doesn't give any indication of the time travelled. It seems to just stand there staring down at us making Spencer's skin red and sore. Sam and I don't appear to colour in the sun. We are both still a lovely shade of sickly grey. When we finally get to that pile of bricks we stop and just stare over to the other side.

'It's not possible.' Spencer finally says something.

'What's not possible?' I turn to look at him and let go of Sam's hand.

'That!' And he's pointing at the bridge. 'We can't walk across that.'

I turn again to look. It's a wooden bridge. Once possibly a very fine wooden bridge too, but now it's crumbling and, well, very dodgy looking. Some of it has dropped down into what seems to be a ravine. It's sagging and buckled and the supporting beams are showing in most places along its two hundred or so foot length. Not a terrible length by any means, but too far to jump, what's a problem is that thing wont support out weight.

'It'll be fine.' I tell him. But I very much doubt that some how. Things here aren't meant to be easy after all.

'The wood is rotten. Nothing has stepped foot on that for god knows how long. It will collapse.' He takes a step back from it and is shaking his head in a _no way am I going to cross that_ sort of way.

I turn to Sam who is standing in the same place he was when I let go of his hand. 'Sam can go first. See if it can take his weight.'

'And if it can't?' Sam asks me.

'Then Spencer and I will have to find another way over.' I place a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder.

'Oh thanks a bunch.'

'No need to thank me until we know if you make it or not.' I give his shoulder a squeeze.

Spencer takes a few steps forward now and places his hand on my good arm. 'Sam can't see. How can he possibly cross that?'

I give this some consideration. Of course Sam and I know he can see just fine, but Spencer, dear stupid Spence hasn't figured that out yet. 'Then go with him. I'll wait here. If you both fall to your deaths into that dark pointy deadly space down there then I'll know to find a different way. All's good in the end.'

Sam turns his dark eyes to me and gives me a small smirk. 'I have a much better idea. If Spencer needs to be with me as a guide then we together will be heavier than you alone. You go first. If it holds you then we can cross.'

I squeeze tighter on his shoulder. 'I think you're perfectly able to manage it alone Sam. Just feel your way. Hands and knees probably best. If you feel a hole then move around it.'

No fucking way am I going first. I look at Spencer whose hand has tightened on my arm as mine has on Sam's. 'I'll go first.' Spencer says and I let out a small giggle of surprise. I don't laugh often. It's very rare for me to laugh genuinely but that's such a funny idea that I can't help myself.

'You go first? You'd fall off that damned bridge if it was free from holes.' I turn back to Sam and move my hand down from his shoulder to his hand which I take and give a small squeeze. 'Go on son. You know you can do it. I'll give you directions from here.'

'Screw you!'

Sam's voice echoes across the ravine and gets thrown back at us a few times. I want to make some sort of witty reply but I don't. 'Sam, I have a broken arm, I can't go first. You will go and test it. If it starts to collapse then run back again. Easy. Any fool can do it.'

'Then you do it. You don't need both arms to walk.' Sam moves back away from the entrance way to the bridge.

I'm going to pause the conversation bit here. I expect you might be wondering what we can see on the other side of the bridge. The answer to that is simple. Not much at all. There seems to be a thick green mist of fog over there. It's sliding in tendrils over the edge of the ravine and crawling down into the crevices. No I don't know what it is and I'm not going to be the one finding out. Sam will.

'Get out there boy before I pick you up and throw you the hell over there.' He looks at me and sniffs and looks at Spencer and shrugs.

'You're not really giving me much of an option are you? Fine I'll go, but if I fall….'

'If you fall then we will know not to tread there.' I cut him off. 'Go.' And I give him a prod and now Spencer has something to say.

'And that fog?'

'He'll be fine.' I give Sam a pat on the top of his head and look at the blood encrusted hair. 'Just hold your breath and leg it. OK?'

All I get back is a, 'Screw you.' But he starts to walk forward.

'Stop.' Spencer again. Interfering little shit. 'I'll go.'

And I frown. 'No, no you won't. I've told you who's going and that's going to be Sam.'

'But he can't see!'

'Oh for the love of everything fuckable Spencer! Of course he can bloody well see! He's been messing with you. Sam get over there now. Then run. If that stuff stings then keep your eyes and mouth shut and run. Don't look at me like that Spencer. Sam don't do that with your hands right now, just get over there. Call out if there's a problem. Scream if you have to. Doesn't mean I'll come running to the rescue but I'll see where the dodgy places are. Get going.' I pause as he takes his first step onto something I assume is going to kill him. I really don't think we're going to have to worry too much about that green fog. The likelihood of Sam reaching it is not very high. I'd ask Spence for some statistics but he's yabbering on at me about something 'Shut up Spencer. Watch him. Watch where he's treading. We need to know the path to take. I said shut the yap, I'm not going to answer you.' I watch as Sam takes his second step into doom and Spencer's hand pulls on my bad arm. 'Fuck Spence! What you doing?'

'Why are you doing this?'

'What?' I pull his hand off my arm. 'Be careful there. My arm hurts.' I snap at him.

'Playing these games. Messing with things the way you are. Why are you doing this?'

Sam takes another step and a cloud of dust rises from around his feet starting off a small coughing fit from him. 'Careful Sam!' I call out. 'Spence it's not me playing the games. It's him.' I point at Sam. 'He's the little shit playing the games.'

'I don't understand.'

'Good. I'm glad you don't. It would make things so much more complicated if you figured it out for yourself. Watch him.' I nod towards Sam who's taken probably this fifth step now.

-o-o-o-

I watch as Sam steps out onto that bridge. He can see.

What else are the two of them keeping from me? I know that there is something else. Something which has enraged Floyd and sort of subdued Sam, but I don't know what it is. I should just come out with it and ask, but on the other hand I should be able to tell. I should be able to profile this and work it out, yet I can't. There is something wrong. Some insidious unknown eating away at Floyd and effecting Sam at the same time. Is it something Floyd has done or something Sam has? He can see. The two of them kept that from me. I should have been able to tell, but it never even occurred to me. What else am I missing?

I move slightly back so that I can see Floyd from behind. I stand so that I can see them both. This person I've let do things to me which no _normal_ person would. No, not that. I mean the beatings, I mean the lies. I mean the constant threats. Why can I not just walk away from it? This situation is a fine example of the power he has over me. I'd not let anyone else treat me like this. I watch as Floyd shifts position slightly as he rubs on his arm with his good hand. No other person would treat someone else like this. Not and get away with it. I know what he does.

This draws my eyes to Sam again and my stomach lurches and the conversation back when I woke up yesterday flashes through my head.

I want to be sick.

Is that what's going on here? It seems horribly familiar. The beatings. Then the affection. The way he watches him. The lies.

Is Floyd abusing Sam?

He wouldn't.

That's his son.

I rub at my eyes with the heels of my hands and when I look back up Floyd has half turned and is looking at me. 'You got a problem?' He's asking and I don't know what to say. How do you ask your boyfriend (if that's what he is) if he's been abusing his son? How do I even begin to ask something like that? I know he hits him. I'm not talking about that type of abuse and if my thoughts are right how long has it been going on?

I don't want Floyd looking at me. I don't want to have to picture what he's been doing to Sam, but those images are shooting across my mind now and I feel I am shaking and my legs feel like they are made of noodles and want to just give up the fight of holding me up and pitch me to the ground. Can he see what I am thinking? I don't know. I don't know. He does suddenly move forward though and take my arm…shouting to Sam to stand still and telling me to sit down.

'You look like someone just drained you and not in a good way.' He says as he pulls me to the dirt and kneels next to me. I don't want him touching me. I can't have those hands on me.

'Please don't.' I mutter at the ground as my head spins and tries to rid my mind of those vile pictures it keeps flashing in front of me.

'Don't what?' He's tucking my hair behind my ears.

'Just don't touch me.' I think my voice isn't much more than a whisper and I hear him sigh and his hand moves to my chin and forces my head up to look at him.

'What's going on in that head of yours?' He asks. And maybe this is the time to say something, but I can't. I hear Sam calling that he wants to keep moving and I see Floyd give him the cutting gesture of _be quiet_ with his hand. 'Talk to me. What's going on? Is it because Sam's going first? Tell me. I need to know.'

But I shake my head and push his hands away from him. 'You'd better watch Sam.' I say to him in a very defeated sounding voice.

'Sit and rest Babes.' And he stands. 'I'll take good care of Sam. Don't worry.'

He turns his back on me which is a relief. At least he won't see the silent tears which arrive with such force and suddenness that I can't stop them.

-o-o-o-

This freaking bridge!

It's about ten foot wide, which is fine if it's a proper bridge, but this thing can hardly be classed as one. I can feel the wood beneath my feet sort of sinking as I tread on it. Almost like it's not solid and I don't think it much is anymore. It's rotten. Rotten to the core, like so many other things around here. I stood still for a while as he talked to Spencer. Not sure what's going on there. Looks like he's having some kind of melt down over there in the dirt. Is this because of me? Ah…has he figured it all out? Or is he concerned about my safety here? Not likely. Not fucking likely. No one gives a shit about me. No one. I could jump down that hole right in front of me and fall to a sticky mashed up death on those rocks I can see below and no one would care about poor old Sam. I take a deep intake of breath and consider just for a second or two just jumping. It would feel wonderful. I would be flying. I would be free and there'd be nothing dad could do about it and there is the added bonus that I'd hit those rocks with such force that I'd not feel a thing. Not like I'd be lying there mashed and still breathing. Or would I? I take a step back away from the edge. Maybe I'm not ready for my suicidal free fall just yet. Not until I'm real sure it's not going to hurt like buggery. This though causes a smile to spread across my face.

There…right there…is a very good reason to get across here in one piece.

The bridge has been constructed with wooden planks going cross ways. Some of these are completely missing now and some are swaying and clinging on to their last hopes by their own will alone. Some are buckled upwards and pointing towards that odd sun. Some seem to be still in place as they should be and it is those that I trust the least. Whatever made the rest of the bridge warped and broken must have had an effect on those which appear to be as sturdy as when they were placed there a millennia ago. Those are the ones I fear the most. I can't see what's going on below them. I can't see through the ancient wood and check how robust it is. I don't like this at all. I'd sooner swing from the cross beams underneath where I can see what's going on than tread on these unknown boards.

I feel like Indiana Jones. Indian Jones in a breach clout and a bloody lump on the back of his head.

I side step the hole which is about four foot across and peer over at the railings at the side. I wonder if they have any strength left in them. That is where they still exist and still stand up right. I place a hand on the dust covered top of the rail and am slightly surprised that it didn't just disintegrate in my hand. I give it a small shake and it still stays firm. I give my dad a thumbs up to let him know that all's well and I take small steps forward.

I know before I've even put my full weight on that dust old bit of wood that it's not going to hold me. I feel it part like sand as I place my foot on it, but my momentum is already in full swing and there's sod all I can do to stop it. Firstly it's just my right foot it swallows but it doest stop there. Like a greedy animal it tries to take more. My hand tightens on the rail which had given me false hope and parts company with the boards it had been sitting in and just comes away in my hand. At the same time I'm falling forwards. My leg has disappeared into the bridge and I fling my hands out and throw myself forwards in an attempt to spread my weight and not get sucked through the bridge and thrown down to that nasty death I'd been thinking about earlier.

There is a cry from behind me. I think it's dad but I'm not sure. Maybe it was just the sound of the bridge giving way? I slap down onto the boards in front of me in a cloud of creaking stinking old dust. One of my hands goes right through but the other seems to have found something which hasn't rotted away quite as much. It still feels yielding and soft under my hand, but it's not disintegrated – not yet anyway. As my other knee makes contact with what was once wood I feel the bridge split and bite at me and that leg too is being sucked down.

'Shit!'

Yes I am full of intelligent words when the crap happens.

'Don't move!' It's dad's voice again. This time I'm sure of it.

'I'm falling!' I scream back at him. 'It's giving way under me! Don't come out here!'

Forever the hero. Of course I want him to get over here NOW! I want him to pull me back and I can feel my body slowly sliding back down the hole I've made in the bridge and I wonder is that's what the other holes are. Are they were people have tried to escape and not quite made it? I try to find something to grab hold of but the harder I try the more the wood crumbles around me. I'm sliding. Slowly…then not quite as slowly down through that ragged exit. I'm past my hips…Its scratching across my stomach and now I can feel the edge on my chest. It's almost like I'm being sucked down by something. It's happening in slow motion…then it's happening in fast forward…then I'm on pause. Then suddenly it's dragging me down again.

'Keep still.' The voice is right behind me and then a hand touches my back. 'Don't fight it Sam.' I don't know what he means. Does he want to just watch me slide and fall. Has he risked coming out here to save me or to get a better view of me hitting the rocks. Then the hand grabs my arm and I feel the fingers digging into my flesh and I scream in fear and hope at the same time.

'I don't wanna die!'

'You're not going to. I'm here.'

And he's moving slowly around me and pulling me forward with his one good hand and I look up at him and he's smiling at me. The bastard is smiling.

'Let go of me!' I howl at him.

'And let you die? That wasn't my plan.'

'Stop smiling at me like that.' I hiss as I feel my body going in reverse and moving back out of the mess I've made of the bridge.

'A lesson.' He says. 'Don't struggle against it Sam. Let it happen. Always accept your fate. It's really not worth fighting. If help is at hand, then accept it, but never fight what's meant to be. In the end it will get you. Might not be right then, might even be months or years later, but it _will_ get you and next time it won't be as easy. It won't be as painless. You understand what I'm saying?'

He's dragged me out of the hole now and is crouching down next to me. 'No. I don't know that the fuck you're talking about.' I tell him and he nods at me still smiling.

'It'll come. One day you'll understand. One day when you're burning slowly and you can feel your blood boiling beneath your pale skin and you can feel your eyes bursting in their sockets – you know how bad that feels – that day you will look back onto now and wish you'd just slipped quickly and gracefully to your death. You can't cheat it Sam. Believe me…I know only too well.'

'You're talking shit.' I push his hand off me where it's drawing patterns on my arm. 'But thanks for the dramatic rescue.'

And he slaps my butt. 'Any time Sam. Just don't fight it OK.'

I roll over onto my back and look up at him. 'But you've told me in the past _to_ fight it.'

'Sure…fight those demons inside you, but don't fight death. Accept it willingly. The more willingly you accept it the nicer the experience will be.'

'I don't want to die.' I push back a bit and sit up. I have bloodied scratches all down my front and over my legs.

'Of course you don't. Nor does Spencer over there, but sometimes you just have to accept it and go with the flow.'

'You've told Spencer this?'

'Why would I? Seeing others in pain is what gets my blood really flowing and my heart pounding…I'm just not ready to see you gone yet. I still need you. Get up now. Carry on. I'll wait here. I need to know what that green shit over there is.'

He saved me from death so I can die in the green smog.

My dad surely loves me doesn't he? Would he have come over and rescued Spencer? No, no he wouldn't cos he'd never have risked Spencer the way he risks me.

'Fight the demons Sam. Don't listen to them. I know you can do it.' He gives me a pat on the head and small push in the small of my back. I feel like one of those sheep they used to herd over the mine fields. That's all I am to him. A thing to use so he doesn't get hurt himself. Him and his precious Spencer.

* * *


	14. Jungle

**A/N: bad language alert. Yes I realise that I often use bad language, but thought I'd warn you anyway… Pb xox**

* * *

Part fourteen: Jungle

* * *

Oh how nice. How nice and touching that display was. I'm kneeling here in the dirt wondering if the man I've been _going_ with for so long is a paedophile and he's there, **there! **Touching him. Running his fingers over him. Does he think I cannot see that? Does he really have so much self confidence and so much self importance that he doesn't realise I can see what he's doing? Yes he saved Sam. He would have done the same for me. I know that. I would have owed him one then the same as Sam does now.

I know how it works. I know only too damned well and I'm really wondering why it's only coming to me now! Now that it's too late to do anything about. I'm trapped here with him. Back there, back where I'm meant to be I could have got away. I could have. I just never tried hard enough. And on the odd occasion I did try he came after me and used whatever it is he uses to get me begging forgiveness and come running back. Running back forgetting what it was I was originally running from. It's all very clear now though. I wipe the wetness off my face with my fingers, but he'll know. Of course he will know. He always knows. It's why he's doing this. Twisting and scratching and digging at my mind until he is all I can think about.

I wipe at my nose with the back of my hand and I'm only slightly surprised to see blood there. I wipe it off on my pants legs and just stand now watching that emotional get together out on that bridge. It's obvious now why Sam had to go first. How could Floyd go and rescue him if it hadn't been. How could he have once again shown how much he really cares for Sam?

I'm feeling sick with disgust. Not only with what Floyd is doing but with myself. I try to think of something nice Floyd has done. Something I really do need to be grateful for and there's nothing. Absolutely nothing there at all. All I can think about is the pain. All I can remember is the hurting and the abuse. I used to wonder why he hit Sam so much and why Sam put up with it. Why did Floyd keep knocking him senseless and my stomach cramps with the only reason I can think of. He likes his boys compliant.

I want to run back the way we came. I want to find Hotch and Prentiss and find a different way out of here, but I can't. I'm glued to the spot just staring at that monster and the child. The child he's sending to a likely death into that green mist.

'Floyd!' I call out to him and he's turning slowly to face me. He's not smiling. Which I think is a blessing. 'Don't.' I say…and he frowns at me.

'Don't what?'

'Don't send Sam in there. I'll go.'

He dismisses what I said with a wave of his hand and goes back to watching Sam who has nearly reached the first layer of that smog.

'Floyd!' I shout again and take a tentative step onto the bridge.

'No! No Spence. Stay there. Wait. Get off the damned bridge.'

He's not turned to look at me but he's now giving me the cutting _silence_ gesture he'd given Sam earlier.

'I'm not your dog.' I don't shout this but he hears it anyway and I hear him call to Sam to wait up a second and he turns to look at me again.

'Spence, I don't know what's suddenly gotten into you, but you've picked a very bad time to mutiny. Can you wait? Just so I can concentrate on Sam here for a while. Just stand still, off the bridge, and wait. I might have to go running in to help him and I can't do that if I'm chatting to you about dogs. Now shut your stupid slut face and do what you're asked. Can you manage that?! Can you Babes?!' He's shouting now and that one free hand of his is in a fist. 'Good. Now stand there and damned well wait.'

I want to protest. I want to tell him to rot in hell, I want to walk away, but I can't. I can't because I have to make sure Sam is safe. I have to keep Floyd away from that boy as much as I can and I can't do that if I'm running in the other direction crying for Hotch to come save me.

And I can't because I, well I just cant!

I see that Sam is ready to plunge into that green. I see him set his shoulders ready. I see his stance change and prepare for the run. And in a blink he's gone. My eyes snap to Floyd now who's listening. I can tell he is. His head is cocked slightly to the side and he's taken steps nearer to the fog himself. He's ready to go get Sam if he needs to, but after those first few steps he's not moved. I'd like to know what expression he has on his face right now. If it's one of pleasure or of worry or of curiosity. I think it would be the latter. I want to call to him and ask what's going on, but maybe he's waiting for Sam to call to him and I don't want to distract him. Finally he turns to look at me and he's smiling. I don't know how to react. I don't know why he's smiling like that.

'I'll come and get you.' And he's striding towards me skipping and jumping casually over things until he's standing in the dirt next to me. 'You OK?' He asks me.

I'm not OK. I am so far from being OK that I think I'm going to explode, but I nod anyway.

'Have a quick smoke with me. Your nose is bleeding. It'll help and well it'll relax you.' He pulls 2 slightly crumpled smokes from his pocket.

'I'm fine.'

'No you're not. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today Babes, but you're not fine.' He pauses and steps in real close to me. He likes doing this. He likes to stand so close that out bodies are touching. He leans in and talks directly into my ear. Another thing he seems to like to do. 'This place. This place does things. It makes you think things and see things which aren't real. Do what I say to Sam. Fight it off. Don't let it swallow you Spence. This is a bad place and we've been here a long time now. Longer than I thought we'd be. Just block it.'

'How can I? How can I block out what you did?'

He leans back and looks at me in my eyes. 'What I did? What I did when? What did I do? I kept you safe. I kept Sam safe. I let the others go back. What the fuck did I do? Explain it to me. I want all the gory details. Don't skim a thing, please; I need to see it as vividly as you do.'

'You know.'

'Well that's a crappy picture to give me Babes. Not really a very complete one. Have you been crying? Take my hand, I'll guide you over the bad bits and then we just have to hold our breath and run through the mist. Sam's fine. Sam's on the other side.'

'I, I don't…I don't want your smokes…I don't want your, your powders, and I don't want…' I take a deep breath. 'I don't want you.'

'Well, there's a shocker. Get yourself over that fucking bridge and remember what I said to you. You're not thinking straight. No pun intended there.'

'I'm thinking clearer now than I have since I first came into contact with you.' I snap at him and move away from him and take a step onto the bridge.

'You'll just end up falling if you don't let me guide you.' He's right behind me breathing down my neck.

'Well let that be my problem. You don't need me now that you've got Sam.'

A hand, a very strong and spiteful hand grabs mine and pulls me back off the bridge. He drags me back onto the dirt and turns me to face him. 'What the fuck are you on about. He's my spawn! You're jealous of Sam?!'

Yes probably I am. I very likely am, but there's more to it than that. 'NO!' I howl at him. 'I'm not jealous that you're beating him and abusing him! Why the hell would I be? I've been there. I know what you're doing. I know what you did!'

A look of shock passes over Floyd's face but it's so fleeting that anyone else would have missed it. 'You've misunderstood something Babes. You're really talking a load of shit. You know that don't you? He's a kid for the love of the gods! A kid!'

'He is sixteen Floyd.' He's still got hold of my hand and for some reason my fingers have curled around his. I don't want them to. I don't want him to feel I am responding to him in any way other then pure revulsion.

'I see. I see what you're saying. I can understand why you think what you are, but it's this place Spence! Get over the bridge. Things will be different. Things will be back how they were. And his age is irrelevant. He's my spawn.'

I know he's lying. I can tell. Not only was I a profiler, but I've heard enough of Floyd's crap to last me a lifetime. He's lying, but I'm not sure what about.

-o-o-o-

Coughing and gagging slightly I make it out the other side. 'I'm OK!' I shout back and then stand and look.

Slightly shocked. I am! I had convinced myself that the stuff would eat me alive and one day in the far far future someone would find my pile of bones, but nope, I'm here I'm standing with the green crap behind me taking in the scenery.

I'm standing bent forward slightly with my hands on my knees and I'm spitting shit out into the grass? That sure looks like grass - almost. This place is as different to where we just came from as sugar is to salt or something, something more poetic maybe, but this wasn't what I'd expected. I thought there'd be more smashed in shops. I thought maybe if we were lucky there'd be some wildlife. Some water? But not this! This just wasn't on my list of things…oh…Let me give you a list.

1. Smashed in shops

2. A dark grey nothingness.

3. Instant and painless death.

4. Not so instant and not so painless death.

5. A real big flight of stairs leading up and up and up and up and up and into the sky.

6. All of the above.

But what I got was option 7.

7. None of the above.

This is a lush jungle type thing. There are trees. A lot of trees. And this grass stuff that's not quite grass but good enough to put a grin on my face. And the trees are dripping water! Water…! Fuck me sideways and call me frank, there is water! I go to leap forward and suck that stuff from the leaves but then I stop. My toes are curling happily in the damp grassy stuff, but something I watched on TV many moons ago stops me from rushing into this too fast.

A group of people were looking for Eden _Hey Brother! _And they nicked a space shuttle thing and went to the place they figured was their Eden _Hey Brother!!!!_ And they rushed out of the shuttle and the place was deadly. The plant life was based on acids rather than water…if I remember rightly. They burned their feet on the grass and the leader _Adam_ ate what looked to be an apple and died instantly…and Kirk…OH! It was bloody Star Trek! I remember now…_Yay Sam!!_ Well yeah Kirk got there too late for Adam. I don't want dad to be my Kirk and me his Adam. I'll wait. I'll wait and hope that because this grassy stuff's NOT eating it's way through my feet that all's going to be good.

And as there's no one here to tell me otherwise I'll erm…

Go away!

Sheesh…

-o-o-o-

He's being a resistant little son of a bitch, but I drag him through the fog anyway ignoring his almost childlike twisting of his hand to try to get away. I'm just hoping that once through this barrier that things will change; hopefully for the better. Well actually hopefully they will change to my advantage, whether that's better than the two I have with me is not really my concern. They're just luggage. Something I've got to take with me. No real choice. I don't think they'd be much impressed if I took a tin of beans – or even peaches - to sacrifice to the gods.

Not that I'm going to sacrifice my boys.

You don't need to be looking at me like that. You should know better than to know I'd not let anything get my Spence. And Sam? Well, a thorn in my side but I'll cope. I'll cope with that thorn very easily.

We almost stumble over Sam who's crouched down murmuring and muttering something to himself.

'Ta Da!' I let him know we've arrived, but I think my boot in the small of his back might have alerted him first. It wasn't my intention to kick him quite that hard but sometimes old habits are hard to break and when confronted with a situation, you know, like kick hard or do a gentle tap, well the former option is always first. At least I know that this grass stuff which is more like a leafy moss isn't gonna hurt. At least he's not screaming in agony as the skin peels back off him in thick tasty …

'I'm hungry.' I let go of Spencer's hand and prod Sam with my foot. 'You OK down there? Need some help?' But Spencer is there before I can move and I'm watching closely. I'm watching him. I can see his hand rest on Sam's shoulder. Those long prying manipulative fingers. It removes that feeling of hunger from me in a snap and replaces it with one of hate. 'Get off him Reid.' I hiss at him between my teeth.

Yes, yes I know that Spence hasn't done anything actually wrong. Not really. Not if I want to use that logical part of my brain, but that's not kicking in right now. What I can see now is _my _Spencer touching Sam. Sam who thought he'd get one over on me. Sam who thought that he'd be able to get away with what he did. Sam who I have to admit I enjoyed (he's older than he looks you know) Sam…

Spencer gets a boot to his right ear. He wasn't expecting it and it sends him over and onto his back in the grass stuff. Sam gets a foot pressed down onto the back of his neck and the harder I press down the more my own neck hurts.

'What the hell?!' Spencer is shouting from the grass but I'm taking no notice of him. He's not important now. What's important is that I move this little fucker's head from his shoulders with my foot. I can feel his squirming body under me as I grind and push, grind and push.

'You motherfucking cocksucking son of a whore!' I am screaming, not really taking note that I am the whore he is the son of.

'Floyd stop!' Spencer again. Again I ignore the gnat buzzing around. All I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears. At least that's all I am taking note off.

'You vile stinking shit!' Grind and press. Dig in with the heel. Something is pulling me backwards but I don't know what. I jab back at it and it goes away for now. The buzzing snapping gnat shuts the fuck up too. 'I'm going to take your head and fuck your face!' I'm screaming at him and somewhere I can hear what sounds like birds, or wasps, or horses, or something…He's still wriggling and squirming and now something has hold of my ankle and looking down through the red fog of rage I see hands; hands trying to get me away from Sam. Again I swipe at the annoyance, this time with the back of my hand. 'Get the fuck off me!' I feel my hand catch on something, maybe a face but the hands don't let go of me.

'Let go of him!' It's Spencer's voice again. 'Stop it. He's done nothing!'

and this time I stop. I raise my foot away from that pink bit of neck I've been crushing and look at where the voice is coming from. My foot though, my foot goes back down, but between the bastard's shoulder blades. I'm not letting him go. Not this time. Spencer has blood all over his face. His lip is split and there's a good old nose bleed going on. Looks like something got him on the cheek too. There's a great swelling and the beginnings of a bruise showing there. 'Done nothing? What do you mean he's done nothing?' Why does my neck feel like it's just been snapped? Why are my legs feeling numb?

Spencer's face looks up at mine. His hands are still wrapped around my ankle but the pulling and heaving has stopped now that I'm off the rat's neck. 'He's done nothing. Leave him alone. If you want to hit someone pick on me.'

'He's…' I want to tell him what Sam did. I do. I want to ruin his little image of the poor damaged child and the evil father but that's going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt Spencer. Maybe. Well it's certainly going to fuck me off if Spencer knows, more than it will fuck Spencer off knowing what Sam did. Maybe. Then again I did unto Sam what he did unto Spence, so neither of us innocents really now are we?

'I'm going to kill him Spence.' But I don't think my voice has that anger in it anymore. 'He's ruined things. He's…'

The hands let go of me and Spencer is standing now with a hand on my arm. The slapping arm. The good arm. 'Floyd?'

'Did I do that to you?' I'm looking at the blood on his face as I remove my foot from Sam's back. I can hear his spiteful cursed little moans as he moves away from me. Spencer moves a hand across his face. Something feels wrong. Something….?

'I've survived worse. It was an accident.' He's looking at me with concern. With worry. Not the fear or worry that he looks at me with when I'm about to try to kick his balls up into his chest cavity, but something else. I can hear that the moans have turned to crying now. Shit, he's old enough to fuck my Spence he's old enough to quit with the girly weeping just cos he got a bit hurt. I turn to look at him and then turn to look at Spence and as I do the world spins and doesn't stop. It spins so bloody fast that I think the place is going to mash and squish me like I'm in a blender….then for a fleeting second I can feel the damp grass stuff on the side of my face.

-o-o-o-

I swear he didn't know what he was doing. He seemed to be possessed. I've seen him like this before. I've seen that rage but it's always, usually always, been my fault. No always it's been my fault. I'd have done something wrong. I'd have crossed a line I shouldn't have even though I didn't know it existed. This though was different. He seemed like he was somewhere else. Like he was someone else.

The elbow to the face did more immediate harm than long lasting damage. It just knocked me out of the way. The smack to the face took me by surprise. Not because of the pain, but more of the lack of it. He split my lip, sure, and he made my nose bleed again, OK, but there was no actual force behind it. Almost as though all his energy was being diverted somewhere else. Into the need to hurt Sam.

I can see Floyd is breathing. I check on him quickly. He seemed to just pass out and I'm worried that this place is toxic, or the mist was, but the effects got to Floyd first. I move over to Sam who is curled up on the grass crying. I want to reach down and touch him. Just give him some comfort that someone is there for him, but was that what set Floyd off in the first place? I glance back at Floyd who isn't facing us and gently touch the side of Sam's face.

'I'm sorry.' I tell him. And I really am. I just couldn't get Floyd off him fast enough. He sniffs and blinks at me.

'Yeah well, maybe I deserved it. Maybe I'm all he says I am.'

'Don't talk that way. You are who you are Sam. No one is perfect.'

For some reason he lets out a little giggle and smiles at me. 'Go back to Floyd. If he comes round and sees us together he's going to explode again and I don't think either of us will survive next time.'

'Are you going to be alright?' I'm not going to deny the fact that I don't want to get into a fight with Floyd again today. Even with just one arm to attack with, I have absolutely no doubts at all that if he wants us both dead we'd not stand a chance in hell of escaping him. There is also that underlying feeling that I don't want to annoy him. I don't want to see that rage, not because it's terrifying, but because, well maybe because I don't want to see that pain in his eyes again.

Shit.

He's got such a strong hold over me that even this hasn't stopped me from needing him.

And it seems like in the past that the more out of control he gets the more I need him. Maybe it's because I miss what I know is under that seething murderous surface? Under there is just another hurt child. Another Sam.

I leave Sam who is now rubbing at the black bruise on the back of his neck and sit down next to Floyd and wonder what the hell is going to become of us all. If he can't keep his act together for more than a few hours at a time we are not going to make it out of here alive. Wherever _here_ is.

Somewhere I can hear a bird singing.

* * *


	15. Surgery

Part fifteen: Surgery

* * *

My head! My bloody head! Where the hell did this pain come from? I can still feel the damp grass stuff on the side of my face, but apart from that the only other thing I can feel is this intense pain. Not a headache. I'd not class it as that. Not even the sort of pain you get when someone shoots you in the back of the head. Nope…this is something else altogether different and somewhat unknown. Ya see if I get my brains splattered over a dirty toilet floor it kind of doesn't hurt that much. Sure there is something, some kind of feeling, other than surprise and a bit of a pissed off _here we go again_ feeling, but this, this thing going on in my head right now doesn't begin to compare with having to scrape maggots out of my healing skull. This is raw pain. The kind you get when you are aware of the spike being inserted and then wriggled around to make sure every last bit of my brain is mushed but unable to escape and repair. Strangely though the rest of me is very pain free. Actually the rest of me doesn't seem to exist. Just that cold on the side of my face and that….that hammering mashing stabbing grinding pain inside my skull. There is a way to get rid of it.

I think.

I think there is a way to get rid of it. I just, I just need to make a hole in the side of my head – or just above my right eyebrow, either will do and then I can drain it; whatever _it_ is. The problem is that I don't seem to be able to locate my arms. Or my hands and fingers for that matter. I'm just a head full of pain. Screaming it out might help, but somewhere is Spencer and Sam and screaming might just alert them to this situation. This situation is something I want to keep to myself for now. I don't want that Sam to think he can take over where I left off.

Concentration lets me open my eyes and see what's going on. Well at least it would let me see what was going on if there was anything to see. All I get is a microscopic close up of this mossy grass stuff and what looks to be a friendly spray of blood fanning out away from me. It must've come from me. Probably my nose I'm thinking, but the brightness of that green and the wondrousness of that red hurts my eyes so I close them again.

Everything is so silent. I should be able to hear something, but I can't. There's just nothing. I can't even hear myself breathing or my blood pumping. Maybe all that blood came from my ears? Maybe I'm deaf?

That doesn't answer the question of what the hell happened though.

I can remember coming through that fog. I can remember something with Sam, but I'm not sure what, but I don't remember anything else.

Sleep.

I need to sleep this off.

And off I go…deep down back into my pit.

-o-o-o-

I don't know what to do! Floyd is lying on the ground. He blinked once. I thought he was going to wake up, but he didn't. Sam is moaning and howling and crying and saying he's going to be crippled for life and the jungle is in front of us and the green mist behind us. Water seems to be something available here and I make a decision to go and try to get some. I'm not sure how I'll get it back to them and I'm not sure I should leave them, but if I stay within sight of them all should be fine. It will be fine. I can collect water on the waxy leaves. I can use them like a cup. Floyd has shown me how to do this before when we've been out in the wilds together. Something he's shown me in the past might actually be of use now. I go to Floyd first though and I talk gently to him. I don't know if he can hear me. There are deep frown lines on his face. I'm not sure if it's anger or pain. I'm not going to get close enough to find out. I stay out of slapping distance and talk to him.

'I need to get water. I'm going to stay within sight. I'm not going far.' And I wait for a response but don't get one. 'Call me. Just shout out…if…' I don't want to say _if you need me _'If, if….' I don't bother finishing. He will know that's what I mean. No need to complete my death sentence (no pun intended). I now move slightly forward and bend down over him and gently on the side of his face, in a place where there's no blood, I plant a kiss. 'I won't be long.' I say and not bothering to wait for a reply I move over to Sam who is lying still now but sobbing and sniffing.

'Sam, I'm going to get us all some water.' And a hand darts out and grabs me.

'He was going to kill me. Don't leave me here with him.'

I bite down on my bottom lip. I don't want to leave him either, but taking him with me would be even more of a danger and not just to me. 'I don't think he's going to move for a while. Just relax. Something happened when we arrived here.'

'No shit.' More sniffing. 'He tried to take my head off with his foot!'

'I'm sure he didn't mean it.' What on earth am I saying?! Of course he meant it! But I'm not sure he knew what he was doing.

'He meant every grind and stamp. He wanted to kill me.'

His hand is wrapped around my lower arm. 'Just stay here. Watch me. I'm not going out of sight.'

'I did something he didn't like. That's why he wants me dead. He will do it. You just delayed it. He was right about cheating death. The more you do it the more it hurts. He was right.'

'Well little things annoy him sometimes. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as he thinks it is. He'll come round.' I run my hand down his pale skinny arm.

'Would you forgive me? If I did something bad? Would you forgive me or would you try to take off my head?'

I give him a quizzical look and try to smile at him. 'I would forgive you.' Though I have no idea what it was he did. Unless….I look over at Floyd and then look back at Sam. 'I know something happened between the two of you. Just give him time.'

Whatever the problem is wont go with time and something is niggling at me at the back of my mind. Some horrific monster. I push it back and ignore it. I don't want to think of it. I can't think of it.

In my mind I have a story. I have a picture of what happened and though it might be vile and sick and rotting, it's better than the image it's covering over; the one I'm ignoring because _that _image is too much to bear.

'Thank you Spencer.' Sam's voice is wobbly still with the sobbing, but calmer than it was and his hand lets go of me. 'Some water would be great.'

I don't go far. Not far at all. Just to the very edges of this jungle. It starts suddenly. There is this strange grass and then a wall of undergrowth and forest. It's almost as though something came down and chopped it off at the edges. I pluck a couple of leaves from the nearest tree. I try to identify it, but I can't work out what it is or was or is meant to be. It's obviously some sort of tropical thing, but I have no idea what. The leaves are large and waxy and damp and I run my finger over that moisture and then lick it. Water. I hope to the gods it's water. I cup the leaf and gather up enough drips to fill it. I have may the equivalent of half a cup and then I walk carefully back to Sam who is now sitting up rubbing his neck with one hand and his groin with the other.

'You need to erm, take this.' I say to him as he looks up at me and licks his lips. 'I've got to get some water for your dad.'

He reaches up carefully for the water and takes the leaf in both hands. 'He's not really my dad you know and thanks.'

I'm not going to get into a debate with him about genetics right now so once I've made sure that the water is being drunk and not spilled everywhere I turn my back on him and start again with a new leaf for Floyd. I'm quicker this time. Maybe because I know better how to do this and maybe it's because of that slight feeling of panic scratching at the back of my mind. I walk carefully back to Floyd and crouch down next to him.

'Floyd I've got you some water.' Nothing. 'Can you sit?' Still nothing. 'Can you at least let me know you can hear me?'

'I can hear you. Where's the water from?'

'I collected it. It's fine. You can drink it. Can you sit.'

He makes a low groaning noise and opens his eyes just a slight crack and then slides them shut again 'I have a slight headache Spence. I need you to go find something.'

I wiggle closer trying not to spill anything. 'I'll do whatever you want. I'll find what you need, but first drink this.'

Again his eyes open slightly and then close again. 'You drink it Babes. Then get me what I need.' His voice seems to be getting quieter and quieter. I'm not going to sit here at the edge of a darn jungle and argue with him over who drinks first. And my head is pounding and I know it is dehydration. So I nod slightly to him and I drink the water. If that was a test to see if I had poisoned it or not I don't know, but he watches me and gives me a very slight smile and as he does a small bubble of blood bursts on his lips.

'What's going on?' Pushing my straggles of dirty hair behind my ears.

'Blockage. I need a stick. Something about ten or so inches. Like a long pencil. Has to be strong though. And a rock. Get me those Babes.' Another bubble pops and blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth. 'Sam, get Sam to help you. He'll know what I need. Hurry.'

I don't touch him. Lord I want to. I want to touch that face so much, but I'm slightly afraid to. Everything is so unreal. Too bright, the water too good, the grass too lush, the blood, the blood too red. Maybe it's a dream or a nightmare. Perhaps none of this is real and if I touch him he will pop and disappear like that bubble between his lips. 'I'll be as quick as I can.' I say and then stand and with one more quick look I walk over to Sam.

To say I am confused might be a little bit of an understatement. One minute I am full of rage and disgust of Floyd and the next I know I need him. One minute I can think of nothing nice about him and the next I can only think of the wondrous things. I explain to Sam what Floyd said and was really expecting him to shrug and look as confused as I am feeling about this. What on earth does he want with a stick and a rock? But Sam doesn't look confused at all. He looks alarmed more than anything.

'Ah.'

Is all he says though. He turns so he is looking at the curve of Floyd's bare back lying in the grass and fiddles a bit with the breach clout.

'He's having a shit time.' He then says. 'I know what he needs the things for. I'll go get them.'

This three way relationship is probably the most unlikely and strange relationship that could happen. There is the violent psychopath, the erm, other less violent but overly sexually active psycho teenager, and me. And we all seem to be drawn to each other in this companionship and just can't let go. No matter how much we might hate it we are each caught. Floyd knows he can't kill Sam (which at least is something I suppose) Sam knows that whatever Floyd does to him he can't stop it. And I know that whatever Floyd does and however it turns my stomach and however much I wish it wasn't how it is, I know that I'll be right there at his side defending him to the bitter end. And why? Well I've still not figured that out yet. It's not just that he has a nice voice and accent. It's not just the way his hair falls. It's not the shape of his eyes or any other body part, it's the whole. It's the whole package. And then there is that last thing. That final thing and I wonder if that's the thing he is banking on. If this is what he's been working up to all along. I would, without even a hesitation die for that man. He knows. I know. I'm not sure if Sam knows yet, but I do have a nasty feeling that sooner or later he's going to discover that too. Would I kill for him? Actually murder someone? For Floyd?

I don't want to think of that.

That is one thing he's never asked me to do.

I'm hoping he never does.

I don't want to be tested like that, because I _know_ what I'd do. I'd not be able to do anything about it.

I am pulled back to now though with a prodding. 'Here. Stick. Stone. Have fun. You'll have to do it.'

Taking the things from him I turn them over in my hand and then ask. 'Do what?'

'Drain him. I'm going to sit here and lick the grass. Enjoy yourself. Don't hold back.'

And now I am standing next to Floyd and shaking my head and telling him 'NO!'

What he has asked me to do is stupid. I'm not doing it. I can't do it!

'Ram it in with your hand…or give it a kick. Use the stone thing.'

'It'll kill you! No Floyd. I don't know what you think putting a stick up your nose and then ramming it onto your brain is going to achieve but it's not going to get rid of your headache! I can't believe you really think that! I can't believe that Sam knew what you wanted them for.' I take a deep breath and pause and occurs to me that Sam did know what Floyd wanted this for. 'Have you done something insane like this before?'

'You've forgotten, but yes. Now please. The best way is an electric drill to the forehead. It's quick. This though is second best.'

'You are…insane if you think I'm going to do that for you!'

'And you'll be dead before tomorrow if you don't.'

I look over at Sam who is sitting watching now and he gives me the _thumbs up_. This is not real. This cannot possibly be real. If it was, you know, if this was real I'd not be standing here contemplating killing him. I know it will kill him.

'Slip it behind my eye then. Do it that way, but for the love of the gods of Pluto do something quick!'

'Eye?!'

Any my own eyes are flickering all over his face taking in that odd swollen look he has around his eyes…and the way the blood is still bubbling from his mouth, and the way there is a line of red coming from his ear now and going down the side of his face and then down to his neck.

Crouching down next to him I get things ready. I line them up. I get things in place the way you would in a ball game. Every piece has its place and that place has to be perfect. One slight deviation from perfection and it won't work. It will go the wrong way. The ball will be out. The brains though will still be intact. Then I am standing looking at what there is. At what I have to do.

I silently say something to him. Something I don't say often. Not even as often as he says it to me and that is a very rare event. He cracks a small smirk at me though. He saw what I said even if he couldn't hear it. 'I know you do.' He says as my foot comes back. I wanted him to say it back, but he didn't. Very telling I think. My foot makes contact and I feel it. I feel it scrunching and breaking. I feel it smashing through.

And I hear the most awful scream of pain. A blood curdling scream.

Floyd rolls onto his back with the stick rammed up into his brains. His back arching, his mouth open, and it's like a thousand demons are screaming. The smell too. The rancid rotting vile stink makes my stomach turn over and I feel the bile rising just in time to turn and empty my stomach onto the green green grass.

Sam is screaming too, but it's more like some kind of chant. 'Go Spencer! My man! Go Floyd! My dad! Wowzers right up into the back of his brains! That hurt does it daddy!'

Spencer my man, Floyd my dad? What does he mean by that?

Again I close it off. I don't want to think of those things. The noise we all seem to be making causes birds to take to flight and get out of the way. It causes something large to go crashing through the undergrowth.

'Ah fuck!' Floyd shouts. 'Fuck!' and I think he's going to die. 'I should do that more often.' He howls and rolls around on the grass squirting blood out of his nose. The mucky stick is now in his hand. 'That's, that's like, like having my brain fucked! In a good way!'

-o-o-o-

I know what he means.

Damn I want to go over to dad. I don't care what he did to me. I only want to think of the good thing he did. And I want to repay him, but Spencer is watching. He's got his mouth open as though he's ready to bend down and give dad a blow job, but he won't. He'll just stand and watch, which is fucking shame cos I'd have blown dad.

Look, before you get onto the old incest thing…he's not _in actuality_ my dad. It's just easier to describe it like that. I'd also like to say that I'm not into fucking my family, but I'm able to admit at least that to myself. I don't care if they are blood or not I'm happy as long as I'm getting what I want – did I just contradict myself? The teenage years are a confusing time. Living the same age for so long as I have things get even more confusing. However going back to the incest thing, this is not the case here. He's my spawn. I don't have a mum. I'm more like a clone sort of thing so it's _not_ really wrong that I want to give him a blow job.

And if it was wrong, I'd still want to do it.

The rewards are all too tempting. The pay back is too sweet.

I can't though. I can see clearly that dad wouldn't say no. His hands are right down the front of his jeans and he's groaning and howling and thrashing around on the grass making a god damned terrible racket, and Spencer is watching him. Yup, watching him with his mouth open and the occasional quick lick of the lips and I think if I wasn't here he'd be right down on his hands and knees.

He's a whore.

He'll let anyone have him.

As I've proven.

And that memory makes me smile.

Again Spencer. I'll have you again.

'He'll be OK soon. His balls might ache for a while, but he'll be fine.' I call over to Spencer. 'Didn't think you'd do it. Didn't think you had it in you. You've proved yourself today Spencer. You get your boy scout's bag for Woodland Brain Surgery today.' I give him a small clap of my hands then put them to much better use as I watch dad.

-o-o-o-

It's the pain and pleasure thing. That really is the only way I can describe it.

Doesn't always work like that though.

Usually it's far more pleasurable for me to be the one handing out the pain. This though came right up there with zapping myself with those heart paddles. I keep meaning to get some of those. I will do one day. Less messy than ramming something into my brain, but that's what was needed here. I'm used up. I am so terribly sated that I don't know if I'm breathing anymore. I can feel I am on my back. I can taste blood in my mouth and a good sniff lets me know that that's not just blood coming out of my nose. I can see the sky. I can hear Spencer's light panicked breaths and I can hear Sam's deep hard breathing. Dirty little shit he is. I sit up and smile. 'Thanks Babes, I needed that.' I get a raised eyebrow from him and I hear Sam shuffling around off to my right somewhere. 'I could do with that drink of water now and we should find shelter before night. Don't really know what's out there.'

-o-o-o-

The speed in which Floyd goes from one extreme to the other no longer surprises me. There doesn't often seem to be that middle time. He's either up and ready to roll, or he's falling apart and I wonder now how much he's hiding. He's wiping his hands over the grass and smiling at me and then glancing over at Sam and I can see those frown lines appear again.

'Did I hurt you?' He's asking him, but Sam shakes his head.

'Just tried to take my head off. You'll have to try harder next time.'

Sam gets a nod. 'I suppose I will. Damage must've been negligible if you're still able to move.' And with this Floyd jumps to his feet. 'Come on then boys. Fun time is over. You both nice and rested? Done anything interesting like trying to find food? No? didn't think you thought of something like that. I can hear animals out there and I know you both know how to set snares. You could have at least collected fire wood or something. Made a shelter? Done anything but play with your selves and scratch your arses? No? Well I'd have been shocked if you had. I'm still stunned that Spence managed to get some water.' He walks over to me. Blood smeared everywhere and takes my hand. 'It's OK I washed them.' And he grins at me. 'Come on then. Time to get going. See if you remember anything about herbs and leaves and mushrooms. I'm running out of smokes and crap and this looks like the perfect place to find something.' Dragging me towards the jungle. 'Let's see what this place has on offer shall we?'

He leads the way. I am being pulled behind him and behind me is Sam who I can hear is muttering under his breath, but I cannot make out what it is he is saying. There is a pathway of sorts we are following. An animal track I suspect. Occasionally Floyd lets go of my hand and steps off the track and plucks something off the trunk of one of these trees or pulls down some leaves. He seems to be getting a big collection of _bits _that he's found and picked up. Small twigs and lengths of creeper which he's wound around his hands and then rolled up and slipped into my pocket. 'Keep a hold of that for me.' He'll say each time he does this and then takes my hand again and we move onwards.

Asking him where we are isn't really necessary. I don't think he knows any more than I do. Sam is staying quiet for the most part but he too has got a collection of things in his arms. Seems he's getting stuff we could possibly burn. It's not cold here. It's horribly warm. Insect everywhere. Buzzing around my head in dark clouds. I wave them away with my hand and for a short while they go but not for long. I slap at them too and I've not a nice collection of squashed things on my chest now and probably on my neck where I have also been swiping at them. Floyd doesn't seem bothered by it. He lets the clouds gather around his head. He lets the things land on him and drink from his sweat and blood. I don't think that they are biting him though. Very odd. Sam doesn't seem overly bothered by them either. I'm am wishing very much so that I still had my shirt on and I am oh so very grateful for my boots and jeans even if my feet are getting too hot and are beginning to blister and even though I am so wet with sweat that my jeans are stuck to me like a second skin, I'd rather that than be dressed like Sam.

A few times now though Floyd has just stopped dead in his tracks and cocked his head to the side. He's listening for something or to something. Whatever it is I can't hear it. I tried asking what was wrong, but he looked around and past me and talked to Sam. 'You all right?' He'd ask him and Sam would reply.

'So far.'

I'm not sure of the meaning behind this and I'm too tired and hot and itchy and sore to really care right now. I just want to sit down somewhere and have a drink and something to eat. Something real to eat. Something bad for me. A burger would go down great just now. Which is funny really because back home I'd not be feeling like I wanted to eat. I'd be avoiding it. I'd be living on apples and soup and pretending I was doing OK and avoiding standing on the scales to see how much I weigh. This is real hunger though. Not that sort of hunger you can ignore if you drink enough coffee. Real gnawing spiteful hunger and it is demanding a burger. With cheese…grilled…maybe some fries…

Floyd has let go of my hand again and is pulling some leaves off a tree again and I take a few steps forward in the direction we were going.

I feel it under my foot. I feel it give slightly. I hear the small _click_ sound and I freeze. How I've managed to do that and not yelp and jump back I don't know! I wasn't expecting this. This is not how I want my day to end. I stand completely still and keep my weight on that one foot and turn my head slowly to where Floyd is crouched down with his back to me.

'Floyd?' He turns to look at me. 'What are the chances of there being mines here? You know things which trigger when you stand on them?' And he stands up slowly.

'Don't move a muscle.' Whatever he had in his hands he's dropped. 'Sam stand deathly still unless I tell you to run or get down.'

'OK. What's wrong?'

But Floyd doesn't answer him he's back on his hands and knees and crawling towards me brushing things out of the way before he puts his hands down. When he reaches me he moves the bright green leaves back from my foot and mutters under his breath.. 'Ah fuck it!'

* * *


	16. Fixed

Part sixteen: Fixed

* * *

What a glorious thing I can see beneath Spencer's foot. Shiny and new and never used before, but this sort of thing is a one use only type of thing isn't it? I look up into his worried eyes and give him an _Every thing is going to be OK _sort of smile. Maybe it was more of a grimace though because he's not looking like he much believes that everything is going to be OK.

'Sam love.' I look towards that sonofabitch and wish it was him who was standing on this and not Spence. 'I think lying down with your arms wrapped tightly around your head would probably be a very good idea right now.'

He takes a small step forward and looks down at his feet. 'Why? What's going on?'

'I just don't want you to get your head blown off un-necessarily. If that's going to happen I'd rather I was the one who planned it, so just do it OK?'

I watch as he drops down to his knees. 'Carefully!' I shout at him. 'Be careful.' I take a deep breath and look up again at Spence who is still staring down, only not at me now but at the shiny thing he's standing on.

'Take Sam and go.'

Brave words from Spence, but really empty. He knows I won't leave him here. The words are just for show. If he thought for one minute I'd leave him to blow him self up he'd be begging for help. I know him. He knows me. We all know each other. What a wonderful team we are!

'Oh be quiet. I'm thinking.' I tell him and brush away more of the leaves, you know just to check that this is what it appears to be and to check that there's nothing else. 'I really wasn't expecting this sort of game. It's interesting though don't you think?' He tells me that it's not interesting in the slightest and if I can't get him off this thing safely then to go. Again empty words. He knows I'm not going. 'Shut up.' Is how I respond to this. 'We have some options open to us here. I can advise you on how to get off that thing and save your feet, legs and balls, or I can give you the wrong advice and see you get blown to fuck. There are pros and cons for both scenarios.' I hear a hiss of breath coming from him but he doesn't answer. 'At least I won't have to set snares to have something fresh to eat.' Another hiss of breath. I don't think he's finding it amusing.

'I'm going to get cramp. I'll set it off anyway if you don't hurry up and do something.' He whispers at me. I don't think he has the energy to talk louder. All of his concentration is down there in that foot of his.

'Well Babes, there's not a lot I can do to help you. When you take your foot off that thing it's going to kill you and if I'm too close it's going to take me with it.'

'I told you to just go. Leave me.'

'And you know I'll not do that. I'll think of something.' I could get Sam over here and ask him to stand on the plate thing too and then drag Spence away and hope that it just kills Sam. I could stand on it and tell Spence to move and let it blow me apart. Good choices. I think there are more. I'm sure there are but my brain is still slightly mushed up from my brain thing and those other life saving things are not there for me to suggest right now. 'How long can you keep still for?'

That damned hissing sound again. 'Just get me off this or leave.' Again in a strange whisper.

It's at times like this that I wish I had a sonic screwdriver or at least the proper use of both arms. The main problem that I'm facing here is that this isn't actually something I've come across before. I've seen things _like_ it but not this actual design. I've seen people get blown to shreds so small that you'd not even know it had once been a person except for the bent up dog tags hanging from a tree somewhere a mile or so away. I've also seen them just throw out crap at someone, bits of shrapnel which hurt like fuck and usually kill but not always. I've also seen them do nothing. Duds. I don't know what this is though. I don't recognise the make. I don't recognise the shape. I have no damned idea what it's going to do and there is only way we are going to find out. I stand up and move carefully around it. It's about a foot in diameter. A disc shape domed up slightly in the centre. I place a hand on of Spencer's shoulder and lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips…then a slightly longer licking, but I don't want to waste time. Not that tonguing Spencer is ever a waste of time! But you get what I'm saying I hope. Anyway as I do this I place a very cautious foot on that place. I don't think he even realises what I've done at first. I don't feel movement under me. I don't hear that small click you hear when you prime something to take you into the next world. This is good by the way. I think it's good anyway. Keeping my hands very firmly on his shoulders I ready myself. We are only going to get once chance here. I look into his eyes and talk quietly to him. 'Not sure what's going to happen. Not sure if this is going to work. Just go with the flow OK? I don't want to have to climb a tree to get my dinner.' He nods. He knows what I talking about. 'Good. Now I'm on the plate too, and I want you to lift your foot. Lift it and move back.'

'No.' Still a whisper. 'That's not going to work.' He looks down at our feet and I feel a small shudder go through him.

'Lift your foot and move back. I need you to help Sam if this doesn't work. You're going to have to go back through the mist and find your way back. If I'm not around you'll be able to go back to your junky body back in some hospital.'

'No.'

'Don't you fucking tell me _no_. Just bloody well do what I tell you to do. Move back. Move back off the fucking thing.'

'And if this by some strange fluke works – and it won't – but if it does, what about you?'

'Ah well I don't rightly know about that yet. Just do what I've asked you to do. If this goes wrong I need you to look after Sam. I need you to get him back through the mist crap and get him back.'

'But….'

'Promise me.'

'Fine. If you die I'll take care of Sam. I promise, but I'm not stepping off this and leaving you here.'

'Very brave words Babes. Very. I will remember them. I will. Honestly. I'm not asking you to leave me here sweety. I'm _telling_ you to step back. Go over to Sam. Lie down on the ground with him, but don't let him fuck you again.'

I'm maybe shouldn't have told him that in this way, but I don't want to go to my proverbial grave with him not knowing. You understand that don't you. I move my hand from his shoulder to the centre of his chest.

'What?'

He has that stupid look on his face. You know the one I mean. The one that makes me either want to smack him real hard or fuck him with equal vigour, or both. No time for that now though. 'Go to Sam. Step back or I'll fucking push you back and I don't know what results we will get from that. Just do it Spencer.' But the little shit doesn't. He's just gaping at me like a freak with his eyes wide and watery and his tongue licking at those lips of his, so what choice do I have? I don't have one now do I? I give him a small smile; a very small smile and then push him away from me. There is a small _umph_ sound as he flies back and lands on his sweet arse amongst the leaves. 'You better hope you're not sitting on one of these things Babes. Now do what I told you and go to Sam.' I glance over the top of Spence and see that Sam is looking over his arms at me. 'Sam what the fuck are you doing? Cover your face.' I snap at him and his head goes back down again and all I can see is his arms and a mass of black hair sticking up every which way.

'That was the most insanely stupid thing you have ever done.' It's Spencer's voice now.

'No, Babes, believe me it's not. Now go to Sam. I would suggest a nice crawl. I don't want to be standing here much longer so make it snappy if you will.' I watch as he turns onto his front and goes all hands and knees for me and I watch his arse for a little while then turn my attention back to this thing I'm now standing on.

-o-o-o-

I don't touch Sam when I reach him. I sit next to him, but I don't touch him.

It feels like Floyd has sent me from one place I don't want to be to a place I shouldn't be.

I'm not stupid. I might have been acting like a fool recently, but I'm not stupid. I knew what happened. Right from the start I think I knew what happened. Not at the time it happened, but I knew from the reaction I got from Floyd. I've just tried to protect my sanity by denying it.

Sam mutters something to me but I don't listen to him. I don't want to hear what he's got to say. I don't want to ever have to hear his voice again. I have a fleeting wish that it had been Sam who had stepped on that thing which Floyd is now looking down at. Sam wouldn't have known what it was. He would have walked straight on and blown himself into next year. I would have been sad, Floyd would have been angry and would have blamed me for it somehow, but it would have meant the end of this, this whatever it is. I just want Sam gone. Gone far away. I don't want this person as part of my life and I don't want to have to rescue him and get him out of here if something happens to Floyd. I look down at him again and sigh. There is a big bruise on the back of his neck. I should never have stopped Floyd. I should have let him kill him. It just means now that I'm going to have to do the job myself. A deep rage fills me. It's a familiar feeling. A feeling that I have lost control of something. I scratch at my body where the things have stung and bitten at me. I need a fix. I was over this shit. I'd won! I was beyond all of this and now I am right back where I was so long ago needing some chemical in my body to make me feel like I am me again and not some beast. The beast which lives deep inside of me and only comes out to play at times like this. Emily caught a bit of it once. Everyone caught a bit of it at some time, but not this much, not this heavy dirty need for not only a fix, but to slaughter the thing which is lying in the leaves next to me. I can see out of the corner of my vision that Sam has moved. He is no longer lying down. He's sitting and watching Floyd. I don't tell him to get down again. I don't tell him to protect his head. I can see no point in it.

I will do it.

I will carry out the task Floyd started.

I will destroy Sam.

I scratch more at my arms and I pick at old scars and scabs and I watch Floyd who's not looking at me. I wonder if he has stuff in his pockets. I wonder if that thing kills him if there will be enough left to get me through this and make me feel real again. Right now I don't care if he lives of dies. As long as I get what I need for a change.

Floyd is crouching now. He looks at me and shakes his head, but maybe he's just getting hair out of his face. I could ask him. I could get up and go over there and take from him what he has secured in those damp vile pockets of his. I could take the stuff before the risk of losing everything is taken from me. I'm just about to stand again when it happens. I'm not looking at Floyd at the exact moment. I'm looking at the leaves on the jungle floor. I feel a sudden blast of heat and the jungle floor turns into jungle sky. There are screams. There is an explosion. There is the sound of something crashing into the undergrowth and then more screaming. I think some of the noise is coming from me, but I'm not sure why I am screaming. Surprise? Shock? Pain? I don't know. Something wet and warm splattered across my chest. Something is groaning and crying. Something is howling like an injured animal. The smell of burning. The smell of blood. The smell of fear. There are no other sounds. No animals crying out. No birds chirping away in the jungle's canopy. And then a voice calls out.

'Ah loving fuck!' And that is Floyd.

I turn my head to look at Sam who is no longer at my side. I run my hands over my chest and find little things embedded in it. Not deep. Not deadly, but they are there none the less. Tiny scraps of metal and wood. There is far more sticky blood on my chest than they could have cause though and I look again to where Sam had been.

'You stupid fuckups! Both of you! I told you! I told you what to fucking do! Why can't you just listen to me sometimes and take my advice? Why don't you just for once get it into your thick skulls that on occasion I am _right_?'

-o-o-o-

The explosion did exactly what I thought it would do; if it was an explosion and not the other options I had in my mind. I'm on my face at the edge of the jungle pathway with burns and fuck knows what else up my back, but I'm OK I think. Spencer is on his back staring at the sky with blood every damned where and Sam seems to have been vaporised. I push up on my elbow and squint around and tell them what I think of them then get to my knees. I can see Sam now. Not as vaporised as I'd first suspected, which of course is good. Spencer is moving and I don't think that most of that blood is his. My own front is scratched and has leaves stuck on it, but it's not damaged. My jeans saved my legs from getting too burnt, but my shoulder hurts like it's popped out of place again. I groan slightly, not in pain but in exasperation at the mess in front of me. Had they done what I said, had they lain down and covered up there would be less blood and less cleaning up to do now. Spencer sits up and I can see he keeps looking at where Sam had been but he's not asking where he is now. 'You OK Spence?' I ask as I get up and stagger towards him. He gives me a quick nod and looks down at his chest again.

'What happened?'

'I took a calculated risk and just ran.' I let out a small giggle, which's not something you'll often hear so make the most of it. 'Why didn't you do what I asked? I said to keep down.'

He doesn't answer me. He just sits there like a sack of shit and does nothing. Maybe I shouldn't have said what I did about what Sam did. Then again maybe he's forgotten. I walk in a nearly straight line towards him and give him a friendly pat on the head. What I want to do is to pound him into the ground. This is his fault. All his fucking fault. The skin on my back is tight and uncomfortable, but I'm sure it'll be OK. I heal quickly. Then I look at the strange shape my shoulder has taken on and wonder how the hell long that is going to take to heal up properly. It's taking too long. Far too long. I tell Spencer to relax. Lay down. Watch the sky for a while and I go to walk away.

'Wait.' And a hand touches my leg. 'I need something.' The hand has a surprisingly good grip to it. 'Just a little bit. To relax me.'

I know what he wants. After all it's what I planned on him wanting, but this isn't a good time to be wanting it. 'A smoke will have to do for now. I might need your help and you're no good to me if you're singing Mmmbop.'

'I don't. I won't. That's your trip not mine.'

'It's still a _no._ You're going to have to wait until later. Can't risk it now. And a small bit of gratitude for what I just did for you wouldn't be out of order. I could have killed myself.'

'Just a little. I'm not asking for a full dose.'

'I said no, I mean no. Ask again and I'll, I'll do something and that something will be painful. For you. I'm going to check on Sam. You just lay back and look at the sky.'

'A tiny bit?'

I pull my leg away from his grasp. 'I'm going to check on Sam. I think a lot of that blood on you belongs to him. Keep it safe.'

With a long sigh he flops back onto the ground and just stares at the sky as I told him to. He's going to be a problem. He's acting strangely. He's acting out of character and there are so many reasons why it could be. I dunno which one. Maybe all of them. I just know he's going to be a problem. It's a shame, but I'm going to have to batter him back into order later. Hammer him. Hard. I'll have fun. He'll maybe like it to. You know how twisted that freak is.

So you might be wondering what's happened to Sam. I sure am. He's sitting with his back to a tree but from here the angle is strange and I can't get a good look at what's happened. The explosion must have picked him up and thrown him hard, but I'm still wondering about all that extra blood on Spencer.

To put it very mildly what I see when I finally get a good look at Sam is not a happy sight. At first I'm not sure if he's still breathing. I'm not sure that I am come to think of it.

'You OK?' I ask him. He's obviously not OK, but I need to amuse myself somehow. He's sitting looking at me and mouthing some words but not talking. I could probably work out what it is he's trying to say and I don't think it's anything along the lines of _I'm fine thank you daddy._ I hunker down in front of him and touch his chest with my finger. 'Hurt does it?' And again the mouthed words which I ignore. My eyes are fixed on the long slender bit of tree sticking out of his left eye. 'Looks painful.' I now move my finger up towards that stick and get my hand slapped away. 'I was just going to see how far in it goes. Looks like you've lost the eye though.' No point in telling him it's all fine when it's not. Well it's fine with me I suppose. I'm just a bit burnt. Spencer a bit battered and maybe in slight shock…and in need of a fix, but Sam…well, he's going to have a headache for a while. 'It's your own fucking fault.' I tell him and I wiggle around him a bit and have a look at where his head meets the tree. 'You've impaled your head on to the tree by the way. I should leave you here. A good punishment for the crap you keep pulling don't you think?'

'Fuck you.'

'Oh so you can talk then. I told you to keep your head down. I told you to wrap your arms around your head. I told you to keep back. Do you think that was because I'd found a bar of chocolate and was hogging it all to myself, or do you think it was to try to protect you? I'll give you a few minutes to think about that.' I move in very close now and look at the thing sticking out of his eye. 'You're fucking lucky you're who you are and not what he is.' I jerk my thumb over my shoulder towards Spencer. 'This would have killed him. You though, well you'll live to see another day I think. Just you'll be seeing it with only one eye. Which is better vision than you had when we first arrived.'

'Fuck you.'

I really should have seen that he got better schooling. He's a clever lad, just limited vocabulary. 'What did it feel like? Did you feel the eye pop? Did you feel it slide back into your brain? Are you happy now?'

'Fuck you.'

'Don't know why you're pissed off with me, I was just trying to help.'

'Yeah well you didn't did you.' He's voice sounds slightly slurred.

'So what are we going to do now? I can just pull it out and hope it doesn't pull half your brains out with it, or I can slide you off it as it's stuck in the tree behind you.'

'I don't care! Just get it out of me!'

'Please.'

'What?!'

'I want you to ask nicely. You think about it for a bit. I'm going back over there to Spence to check all's OK with him and get him to do something about my shoulder again and then I'll come back to you.'

'NO!'

Oh he's found his loud voice now. 'You're not in the position to tell me what to do Sam. I'll be back.' I stand up and look down at him. 'Don't go anywhere now will you?' and I turn and walk back to Spencer who is standing where he had been sitting jigging from one foot to the other and biting down on his bottom lip.

'Is Sam all right?' He asks me as soon as I am close enough that he doesn't have to shout.

'Sam will be fine.'

'Good. Now give me something.'

And he's on me! He's physically leapt for me and is rummaging in my damned pockets! It doesn't last long. He quickly removes his hand and lifts it up to his face. I think for a minute that he's going to sniff his fingers but he doesn't quite go that far.

'Floyd?' Is all he says.

'Just don't ask… Sam's hurt. I can't help him if my shoulder is like this. It's a distraction. Every damned thing is a distraction. Sort it out for me and I'll give you something; from a different pocket.' He looks at his hand again and then rubs it on the side of his jeans. Not that that process is going to clean his fingers. His jeans are probably almost as filthy as the inside of my pocket. He does do what I ask him to do though, but I think it's only because of the chance of getting a fix of rainbows and fish…thank the gods he doesn't sing too, or see pygmies. He unbinds my arm and once again with one hand on my shoulder and the other gripping my arm he pulls.

I shout. 'Fucking bastard arm!'

Sam howls. 'Help me!'

Spencer smiles and holds up a small twist of cellophane. 'Thank you.'

Bastard picked my pockets!

* * *


	17. Friendly Banter

Part seventeen: Friendly Banter.

* * *

I hold up what I want with triumph and immediately feel Floyd's hand wrap around my fingers.

'Clever little trick. No pun intended there Spence and you can keep that, but don't use it. Put it in your own pocket and leave it there for now. I can't deal with you and Sam right now. This isn't the place to get off your face.'

I twist my hand in his like a child trying to get away from a parent and glare into his eyes. 'Let go of me Flanders.'

'I see. Fan-bloody-tastic. You've picked a good time to piss me off. What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you forgotten your place? Do I have to remind you every fucking day that you do as you are told? Has your brain confused me with someone who cares?' His squeezes my hand tighter. 'Put that shit in your damned pocket Spence or I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you and take it away. Stop behaving like a fucking kid and grow up will you? You stood on a bloody mine. Sam has something in his eye which I need to get out and this isn't the time or the place for you to start fucking with me. I don't want to have to drag you both through this sodding place.'

'Let go of me Flanders.' Again I hiss at him between my teeth.

'I'll break your damned fingers if you call me that again.'

'It's your name. I'll use it.'

And he gives me a little nod. 'Use that name on me again and you'll not be using what you've nicked from my pocket. Understand that. I'm not putting up with this shit from you.'

'Go to hell.'

He lets go of my hand but I don't have time to feel that _I have won_ feeling because just as fast as he releases me his fist has landed hard on my mouth and I'm laying on my back again looking at the sky. I feel his hand pulling on my fingers and taking back the thing I need.

'When you learn to behave, you little bastard, I'll let you have some more. Now pull yourself together and remember what's going on and who's getting us out of it.'

'I'm only here because you pulled me here! I'm only here because of what you, you and Sam, have done! I didn't _choose_ to be here!' I blink at they sky as my mouth runs away with me and I spit blood out which falls straight back onto my face with a splat. He doesn't answer me though. I thought he'd rant on about how it was all my fault again, but he doesn't. I hear him step away and then I hear him pause and call back.

'I've not time for this now Babes. Get a grip will you?'

And again I hear his footsteps as he walks away leaving me on my back on the animal track we'd been walking down. They are muttering to each other but I can't concentrate on that now. All I can think about is how I had what I need in my hand. How I had actually taken something from him and he didn't know I'd done it. He's weak. He's not the tough guy he thinks he is. If he carries on failing like this I might have the chance to get away from him. I probably could now. I could get up and go back the way we came and disappear through that mist as he told me to do if he blew himself into next year by that thing, but I can't do that without that stuff in my hand. Why did I show it to him? Why didn't I just wait until he'd gone back to that freak Sam and then used it? I rub at my eyes with the heel of my hands and let out a sigh which might be despair and might be loathing and might be just a touch of need.

Sam is howling in pain. I can imagine what Floyd is doing to him. I have enough background information on both of them to have a pretty good profile on them. I know what they are doing. I will kill him. I will kill Sam. Maybe Floyd is? Should I get up and go and watch? Should I make sure?

I look at my hands and I wave them in front of my eyes for a while and them crack my knuckles and cross my arms over my chest and start picking and scratching at my arms with my broken and dirty fingernails. I don't hear Floyd coming back again but I hear his voice from just above me.

'Stop doing that with your hands. You're getting as bad as Sam…am I going to have to tie your hands behind your back? You want a bit of what I got from Hotchner?'

'My arms itch.' I snap at him. 'I'm not masturbating!'

'Your arms don't itch you stupid junky whore. You just need a fix. Pack it in. You're damaging your skin.'

'And you care because?'

He's bending down over me now and I can see he's picked up the length of cloth he was using to hold his arm close to his chest and support his shoulder. 'I don't give a shit Spence, but it's annoying me. So pack it in.'

I watch as he turns again and goes back to where Sam is. 'You want me to fix your arm up again?' I call out to him but he doesn't reply so I guess he doesn't. I resume my scratching for a little while and then place my hands on my stomach and commence a pinching session.

-o-o-o-

'It's going to be like having a tooth pulled.' I tell him.

'I've never had a tooth pulled.' He tells me.

'Well it hurts like fuck.'

'Your bedside manner needs some work.' He tells me.

'Naa…bedside I'm the best. Dentistry though might need some work. Hold still.'

I put one foot between his dirty legs for support and gently touch the end of the thing sticking out of where his eye used to be. 'Hope it's not barbed.' I tell him. In a way I do honestly hope it isn't, but there is also that place inside me that wants this to hurt him. Not just hurt him a little bit but hurt him a lot. I grip it in my hand and he wriggles slightly. 'Told you to hold still.' I tell him.

'It hurts!'

'I expect it does. On the count of three OK. One, two, three….' And it makes a wondrous sound as it grinds out of the tree and slips back through his skull and squishes out of his eye socket. 'Ah messy, messy, but good.' I throw the stick to the floor and bend down to have a closer look. 'Let me clean that up for you.' I bend in closer and lick my lips.

'If you lick me I'll kick you in the balls.'

'Well that's not what you said last time.' But I move back away from him. 'It is a mess. It needs to be cleaned up.' I pick up the length of grubby cloth and look at the hole where his eye used to be. 'This just isn't going to do the job you know.'

'Just cover it. Shit I've got a sore head.'

His bottom lip quivers slightly and I think for one horrific moment that he's going to start crying. 'Here.' I drop the cloth onto his lap. 'Wrap that around it. I don't think Spencer is going to want to look at that nasty mess. A shame really, that's ruined your good looks.'

He picks up the dirty bit of ripped shirt. 'It will heal.'

'Sure it will Sam. Like my arm has healed. Like my shoulder is doing just fine. Of course it will heal.'

I'm not sure if he gets what I'm saying though. He's sitting there looking sorry for himself and twiddling the cloth between his fingers. 'Cover it before the flies get too friendly with it. You don't want to be picking maggots out of that.'

'You gonna help me here?'

I shake my head at him. 'You know what Sam, you are lucky that explosion didn't take your head off. I told you to keep your head down for a reason. Now you know why. Your fault that happened. You fix it up yourself. Let it be a lesson to you. Next time take note of what I say.'

'I've leaned my lesson. Now wrap this around my head for me.'

But I walk away. I know, I'm a meany, but he has to learn. The same way Spencer will have to learn. They will, they really will both have to pull themselves together and get a grip on what's going on here. Am I the only one still thinking straight? I go back to Spencer who is now sitting up watching my return. He has a strange look on his face and I really don't like the way things are going here. I sit down next to him and give him a smile. 'Sam's going to be OK I think.' And I slide my good arm around his shoulder expecting him to lean into me and rest his head on my shoulder like he always does, but he doesn't. He pulls away and pushes my hand off his shoulder.

'You think I care how Sam is feeling?' His pretty mouth is in a snarl.

'I think that I told you to pull yourself together and all you've done is sit here and think of ways to get away from me. I'm right aren't I?' He doesn't say anything. 'But I'm the dealer. I'm the pusher. You can't go without me. If you do take what I have it's not going to last you long and then you're going to need me again.'

'I'll find a way.'

'No Babes you won't. You know you won't. We are in a situation where we need each other. I need you to complete what I started off doing here and you need my magic powders. A partnership Spence. It's going to work out well I think. Now let me taste you.'

'I don't need you Floyd. I've never needed you. You just coerced me into thinking I needed you. I don't need you any more than I need a bullet in my brain. You've ruined my life. You've taken from me anything of any use I've ever had and destroyed it. You've bullied and beaten me into submission. You've fed me things no man should ever eat. You've done things to me no man should have to put up with…'

'You like all that!' I cut in.

'I'm not talking about that! Damn you Floyd, why does it always have to come back to that?!'

'Maybe because they are the good times? The things you like. The things I like. The things we both enjoy? What's so wrong with enjoying each other?' He gives a small one shouldered shrug. 'Well stop bleeding well moaning about it then. I've not done anything you didn't want. You could have walked away at any time. You could have faced the bullies alone. You could have faced life alone. You didn't have to keep coming back to me.'

'I didn't! I never had a choice! You were there constantly. You never gave me room to breathe or think! Always there chipping away at my self confidence and chipping away at what I am.'

'What you are. What are you Spence? I've left you to deal with things before. I've left you for years! And what happened? Tell me what the fuck happened when I left you for all that time. When I left you to do your fucking thinking and breathing, come on you dirty little slut! Tell me!' Nothing…not a word. Of course I'm right. 'You are nothing without me Spence. You're just a slut and a junky. It's what life would have been if I'd not stepped in when I did. Who the fuck was there for you on those nights after Hankel had you screwed. Who was there Spence? Who got you through all those fucking nightmares? Who helped you recover time after fucking time?!'

'That's not what I meant!' He's shouting now….oooh I've made Spence angry.

'What did you mean then? When did I coerce you?' I lean in so I can smell him better. I love that angry Spence smell. 'What the fuck have I done to you that you didn't want?'

'I just….'

'You just what? What Spence? Come on spit it out. Don't hold back from me now.'

'It's just that….'

I cut him off again. 'Come on! Tell me. What have I done that you didn't like? You didn't want me fucking you? Is that your problem? Have you suddenly realised that you're straight? Are you saying you're not a dirty little fag whore? Is that it? Or is it the slapping you don't like? You don't want that feeling of adrenaline rushing through you? Tell me what it is Spence.' I can see his face going red and this amuses me no end. 'What have I fed you that you don't like? You love my cooking usually. Are you telling me I can't cook? Are you telling me….OH! Spence are you telling me that it's _me_ who's the dirty whore? Are you telling me that you want someone else? OH! You want Sam! I get it now! Foolish me.' He's trying to say something but I'm just talking over him as his face gets redder and his mouth tightens in an angry straight line. 'You want Sam to fuck you again? Well I don't think that's going to happen. He's more of a taker than a giver. That was a one off. I'm sorry to disappoint you Babes, but you're stuck with me. Or that whore you go see when you think I don't know what you're doing.' I pause for a breath.

'I don't, I d don't, I don't…..'

'Spit it out Babes…you don't what?'

'I don't…'

'I know that bit…try another word.' Gods I'm enjoying this!

'I don't want…want Sam!'

'Oh..and what about your little cocksucking whore friend. You know who I mean…the one you pay good dollars to have suck you off. Remember him, blond wavy hair…green eyes…nice arse and wonderful mouth. He does me too, but he pays me for the pleasure.'

'Shut up!'

'So we have an understanding now? You will pull yourself together Babes or I'll not be letting you snort my shit. You shut that dirty whore mouth unless I request you open it. Or unless you're handing over money.'

'Just shut up Floyd!'

'You don't like it do you? You don't like someone pointing out to you exactly what you are. How would your lovely Agent Aaron Hotchner react to this information? Would he still want to protect you and keep you safe? I don't think he would. I don't think any of that perfect little lot would want you anywhere near them. Not that lot. Not those faultless wonders.' I stand up and touch Spence on the top of his head. 'And you know why Gideon fucked off and didn't even say a proper goodbye. You know why your father left. You know what made your mother insane. You know all of this and you pretend it has nothing to do with you. You father knew what you were. You mother knew I was fucking you from when you were sixteen. The same age as Sam. Is that why you want him so much. He reminds you of yourself?'

'Go away.' But his voice is quiet now. 'I don't want Sam. I don't want him near me. I don't want him touching me. And stop putting things in my head that don't belong there. Stop saying this rubbish Floyd, you know it's not true. You know full well. You were there through most of it. Why are you saying this?'

'To make you think.' I turn and walk back to get Sam. 'But she did know. I told her.' I say as I go.

-o-o-o-

So yeah, I've wrapped it around my head and I feel like shit but I'll survive. Dad's walking back over to me and giving me a quizzical look.

'Yeah I'm OK.' I tell him and use the tree I was pinned to so I can get to my feet. 'Got a headache.' I thought he was going to say something but he doesn't, he just puts out his hand and takes mine and starts walking back towards where Spencer is. I dunno what's been going on between those two but it's not nice whatever it is. I can taste the tension in the air like it's chocolate. Tasty but you don't want too much of it. I think about giving Spencer a wave but when I see that tight look on his face I decide that I'd best not. He looks murderous. I've not seen him look like that before. Actually for the first time I actually see that Spencer could be dangerous. There's more to him than a fine arse and a good memory it would seem.

Dad is a cunning bastard. I look at him side on and see that profile of his and can see that he looks relaxed and then I look at Spencer who looks like he's ready to fight off anything that comes too close to him and then I look back at dad who's now looking at me and he's smiling.

'We need to get going. Shelter before the nightfall is a good idea. I don't think we'll need a fire and I don't think we'll be hunting, but shelter would be good don't you think?'

There is no reply from Spencer and I don't say anything either so dad lets go of my hand and walks over to where the mine thing had been. There's not much of a hole there. I thought there would be, but I suppose the explosion was meant to go up and not downwards. As dad walks down the path in front of me I can see the skin on his back. I can see blisters and broken skin and bits dangling off. Must hurt, but I've not heard him moaning about it. But then again it's not going to hurt as much as what's happened to me, and by the looks of it Spencer got off lightly, which is a bitch seeing as he's the one who trod of the fucking thing in the first place. I don't like him walking behind me but I don't want to walk behind him either, you know not that far away from dad. I want to be able to jump on him and scream for help if I need to. I don't want to leap on Spencer, not when he has that look on his face anyway. I used to like him, but now I'm not so sure about it. I'm not so sure about a lot of things.

You know not so long ago dad was trying to kill me and Spencer was trying to stop him and now it's only dad I trust and Spencer I'd not spit on if he was drowning, but I might piss on him if he was on fire, just for the hell of it.

I know why dad's done some of this. He doesn't want us getting complacent. He wants us to be able to survive if something happens to him so I'm going to have to make sure that nothing does happen to him cos I don't want to be left here with that enraged Spencer. He'd rip me apart sooner than look at me. Dad's told him. I'm sure of it, but I don't know if Spencer believes him or not. I just need to pretend nothing has happened….if having your eye removed by a big stick is nothing. I suddenly stop and turn to look at Spencer.

'If you lay one hand on me I'll scream so loud it will burst your ear drums.'

'I have no intention of touching you Sam.' He tells me.

'Well as long as we have that understood because…..' I don't finish I get a slap around the back of my head.

'Stop it Sam. Leave him alone.' Dad.

'He's got something planned. I can feel it. He's plotting something.'

'He couldn't plot his way out of a paper bag. All he can think about is getting his next fix. Leave him alone. Let me worry about Spencer. You just worry about the gangrene you're going to get in that damaged eye and brain if you don't keep it clean.'

I turn to look at dad. Spencer's not said a word. 'Oh you really do know how to cheer someone up don't you?!'

And dad goes off on one. It's like someone lit a firework under his butt.

'You want to get out of here alive? You think this is a game? Well it's not a fucking game Sam. It's dangerous and you're going to end up a splat on the tree trunk if you don't start acting like this is real. What the fuck is the point in me telling you that everything's going to be great? You want to know how to survive this shit or do you just want the good news? Well let me tell you kiddo, there is no good news. This is bad shit and we all three are stuck in it. We can't go back, we can't go off track we can only keep going forward and hope that we don't blow ourselves up in the process. I could tell you all's going to be great but what's the point in that? You will let down your defences. You will stop keeping your wounds clean. You will wander off and get sucked down into hell. You want that? You really want that then go ahead. Yes Sam your eye will be fine. I won't be picking maggots out of by tomorrow. I won't have to show you how to keep it clean with just your fingernails. I won't be pulling your rotting flesh off you in an attempt to keep you alive. You happy now? You happy Spencer? You want this?' He holds up some of his powder in a twist. 'You want this now? Or will you be able to hold off until I have found us somewhere safe. Have it now. Lie back on this track and slide away to that good place, but you'll wake up in a world of shit, cos I'm not waiting around for you and those things out there will be on you and chowing down before you get to see your first pygmy.' He stops talking.

'You play a shit game.' I tell him.

'It's the only damned game either of you will play! If I'm too nice to you you'll think I've gone soft. If I slap you around either physically or mentally you seem to grow a back bone for a little while. Yes I'm a bastard. Yes what I said was mostly true. Mostly. Not all of it. I embellished rather a lot. That's for you to work out what I said as a lie and what was true, but do it later for the love of the gods…just do it later will you. I need to get us out of here.'

'What things?' Spencer says. 'There's nothing here but us and some animals and we've not seen them.'

'Who do you think laid a mine? A nice shiny never been used before mine? Do you think it was some cuddly woodland creature? Or do you think that there are things out there watching us and waiting for us to make another mistake. I'm surprised they've not taken one of us yet. Really surprised that they've not done that and that is worrying.'

'They are playing with us.' Spencer says as he looks around into the trees. 'They're waiting and playing. Sadistic and organised. More than one of them.'

'Well done. So if you think what's happened already is bad then just wait until they really get going. This is going to be fun.' Dad pauses. 'Fun for them. Stay alert. Don't let your guard down.'

* * *


	18. Flight

**a/n: implied nasties.**

Part eighteen: Flight.

* * *

We walked not much further really until Floyd stopped us and decided to make camp. Sam helped him a bit. I didn't bother. I know whatever I do will be the wrong thing so where's the point? He doesn't seem to mind or care if I just sit and watch. I've seen him make this sort of camp before. He pulls the small saplings together and ties them with creepers at the top then covers the outside with smaller branches. Weaving them I suppose…and then placing big leaves over the top and the a few more small branches to hold everything in place. Room for the three of us to snuggle together and sleep, but I don't think that's going to be happening somehow. I for one feel rather disinclined to snuggle with Floyd and Sam and I have a feeling that Sam doesn't want to get too close to me either. On the other hand I feel so tired. Not just the constant walking but the strain of knowing something is out there watching us. Floyd was right to say what he did. He was right to tell us that this isn't a picnic we are on, but that's not stopped me wanting what he's got in his pocket. I'm thinking about it constantly and it almost makes me grin when I compare this need to Gollum's need for the ring and then that makes me grin and causes Floyd to give me a curious look.

'What are you thinking?' He asks.

'You'd not understand.' I tell him even though he probably would. I don't want to share this one amusing moment with him.

'Try me.' He walks over to me with a hand full of leaves and goes down on one knee in front of me. 'Try me.' He repeats.

'I'll be keeping this for myself.' But I can't help but smile at him. Damnit. How does he manage to pull me back from hating him to wanting to hold him close?

'I might have to tickle it out of you. This is no place to have dirty secrets.'

'This is no place for games Floyd. Honestly, you'd not understand.' I look over at Sam who is weaving more twigs into place. 'Is he going to be all right?' And Floyd nods.

'I think so. I hope so. We all need to be all right Spence.'

'What you said…..'

'I said for a reason. I'm not going to discuss it with you now.' He prods the leaves with his finger. 'You can eat that.'

I glance down at the small pile. 'Eat it?'

'The camp…' He waves his hand in the direction of the little camp he and Sam have made. 'One hundred percent edible. Amazing don't you think? A little gingerbread house all of our own. Just don't eat it until the morning. However hungry you get. Try to resist.'

I smile at him again. 'I think I can resist that, but Floyd….'

'I know. I know what you want and I'll give you some later. Just keep your eyes and ears open for now OK? I don't want to be jumped by something from behind unless it's you.'

'We need to sort this mess out.' I'm looking right into his eyes.

'Just a little tiff is all it is. Nothing to sort out really. Now eat up if you're hungry and if not then just keep eyes and ears pealed.'

I take the leaves but I don't think I'm going to eat them. I'm not that hungry. I don't know why I'm not feeling too hungry. I can't remember the last time I ate something. All I need is to slip away from here and be able to relax and Floyd has that ability stuffed in his pocket and my need for that is getting stronger. Listen out for things? All I can hear is them crashing around and Sam moaning about something and I can hear my heart thumping in my chest and those voices at the back, way at the back for now demanding peace and quiet. When Floyd comes back over to me and takes the mashed up mess I now have in my hand he's smirking at me.

'I've been talking to you. Where have you been?' He taps my forehead.

'I'm sorry…I was a million miles away I guess.'

'Probably better than being here. Get up and join us Spence. We should stick together. Safety in numbers.'

He's right, but these numbers don't make me feel safe. I look over at Sam who has a bloodied rag wrapped around his head. He's sitting eating something. There's green goo dribbling from between his lips which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

'We're not going to get out of here in one piece are we?' I put the squashed leaves down and wipe my hands on my jeans.

'Nope. I don't think we are. But getting out in pieces is better than not getting out at all don't you think? Sam's already pretty badly damaged. My arm is still fucked…it's your turn next and it's bothering me slightly. I don't know what they have planned.'

'Well maybe nothing?' I am looking around into the increasing darkness of the jungle.

'They tried to blow you into tiny little bits Spence. I don't think they're going to leave it as it is. That's not how they play the game.' He takes my slightly sticky hand and pulls me now up to my feet. 'Join us.' A squeeze on my hand. 'I don't like you being so far away.'

But far away is exactly where I want to be. 'Why am I here Floyd?' I ask as I walk over to the camp with him.

'I pulled you here. Now sit.' And his hand is on my shoulder pushing me back down to the jungle floor.

'I know, but why? Why do you need me here?'

'Too much, you're asking me too much Babes. Now if you don't want to eat I suggest you get yourself comfy in that tent thing and I'll give you what you need. I'm not giving you much. Just enough to calm you.'

'That's all I'm asking for.' It's not. I want more. I want to do more than be able to relax. I want to fly. I want to soar and dip and dive and feel that wonderful feeling you get with Floyd's powders. No wonder he uses them so often. I certainly would if I was him. I would if I was me too. I turn and crawl slowly into the tree house and lay down on my back staring at the leaves and branches above me. It smells good here. Sort of like the smell of freshly mown grass. That lovely fresh damp smell. I breathe it in in big greedy gulps trying to think back to when I was a child and all was good. Though lawn mowing is a very rare thing in Vegas I do remember visiting places where there was a swath of green and mowers slowly moving along cutting at the damp grass. I remember that sweet wonderful smell and I want to go back there and lie down in that green and feel safe.

'I'll be keeping watch. Sam needs to sleep. Don't worry about anything. I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.' Carefully he moves so he's sitting astride me across my hips. 'You know something Spence?' He's pulling the twist out of his pocket. 'I could sit here all day just looking at you.' And he lets out a long sigh. 'But not forever. I think something will force me to turn you over eventually. Or at least get in a more accessible position.' A hand moves in front of my face. 'Inhale and think of nice things Babes. Have a good trip. See you soon.'

How stupid is this? He's saying what the wants to do to me and I'm just laying there wishing that he would do it! And moreover wanting that stuff up my nose and into my brain. I spent so many nights fighting addiction of one sort not even realising that my bigger addiction, the one I didn't have to pay for with cold cash was right there all the time. Smirking at me from the shadows. An addiction far more damaging then sticking needles into my arms, or between my toes.

I do inhale though and I'm taken straight away with out any chance to wonder what's going to happen next. I'm just gone.

And it's wonderful and beautiful and I could happily stay here forever.

-o-o-o-

'Touch him and I'll rip your other eyeball out.'

A simple instruction to Sam and one I think he will listen to. His hand shot up to his face and gingerly touched the bandage.

'I won't touch him.' He mutters as he starts to prod.

'Want me to check on that for you?'

He shakes his head. 'I want to sleep.'

I look over to where Spencer has slipped away to and shrug. 'Go for it. I'll be staying awake. Just, you know, don't do anything even in your sleep that you'll regret.'

He gives me a sideways look. 'I don't regret what I did you know and I don't think really that you mind either. You enjoyed it too.' He starts to look at Spencer's foot which seems to be slightly twitching as he dreams.

'Wont happen again. Not with you and Spence. So just remember that.' I don't know if he got the hidden meaning there but he doesn't snap back at me. He gets on his hands and knees and starts crawling through the gap in the tent thing. He's careful not to touch Spencer. Almost comically careful. It's all good though. He's going to behave from now on. I think he's going to behave. I will take his other eye out if he doesn't. That wasn't an empty threat. I'll take it out with my thumb nail. I hold up my hand in front of me and look at my fingers. They can inflict a lot of damage can those fingers. It'd be nothing to pop that eye of his. It's almost tempting. He'd not even know what was happening I'd do it so quickly. I could. But I won't. If I was going to do that I'd make sure he bloody well knew. I'd tell him exactly what was going on and he'd already know how much it'd hurt, I'd not have to tell him that.

I slide my hand into my pocket. Bad fingers. Naughty fingers. Keep temptation out of their way. Sam has his back to me and to Spencer. Good lad. He understands. He understands because we are the same.

This place makes me think of Little River. It makes me want to go back there and enjoy that life again. I'm not going to enjoy myself much here I can tell that much, but when I was with Little River…Those were good days. A shame I had to do what I did to him. Yes, that was a shame, but I knew from the get go that it'd end in a blood bath and a good meal. I lick my lips and for a little while close my eyes and remember that fine fit body and long dark hair. I remember how it was shaved off short on one side so as not to interfere with the bow. I remember how he showed me how to hunt. Then I showed him something and that was a good day. That was a very good day. I was actually liked by that lot. Taken in as one of them. I shaved the side of my head and put muck on my face to blend into their forests. I learnt all I could from them. I knew where they migrated to each season. I knew where their secret grain stores were…the ones they needed so they'd not starve in the winter. I knew which of them held the hunts together. I knew which of the women where dangerous and which were just cooks or gardeners. I marked them all in my mind. I drew maps and kept them in my memory and then that day I got the call from above, or below…wherever the fuck they are, that day when I was told _Your job is almost done here. Complete it and return to us._ And I did. I did it with barely any hesitation. Just one thing I did without their say so I took Little River out for a walk far away from where we were camped. Right down to the river. I fucked him hard and he loved it…as always…and then I killed him. He still had that smell of lust and sex on him. He was still moaning with delight as I ripped out his throat, but that was better than letting the white men get hold of him. He died happy. He died with me on his mind. What better way to go? I tore out his heart and liver. I had lunch and then I fucked him again. More than once. I think that night I might have come close to falling asleep. I was so relaxed and sated. Everything was so perfect, well except that Little River was dead. In the morning I took him one more time and then slipped his body into the river.

'Go home.' I told him and watched as the water dragged him away out of sight. Then I washed all the muck off myself and completed my task.

That was one of the better kills; one of the better jobs I've done and Anthony, well he was just as bloody good but that was different, but Little River is the one which is in my mind right now. I not only killed him, but most of his tribe too, either directly with my own hand or by drawing out those maps for the grey men in the town on the coast and marking the places and describing the people. But what the fuck! It was my job damnit! And a damned wondrous job too.

Anyway…I digress rather a lot here. Little River is not Spencer, and I'm not going to go ripping out his throat.

I pace for a while.

I walk around the camp.

I watch Spencer moan and writhe in this drug induced sleep.

I watch Sam wriggle and groan in his sleep too.

No good dreams going on there I don't think.

I sit and smoke a few smokes and I look at my hand which is certainly not the colour it should be and I wiggle my fingers and see that they're not working as they should be and I rub my shoulder and curse quietly under my breath. When's this shit going to be over? When's this damned arm going to be as it should be? Now my mind drifts to Hotchner and his crew. Much the same job at hand here as the one I described earlier, only this time I refused them. I told them that if they weren't already in Hades that they should think about taking a trip there; with something uncomfortable stuck up their arses. I'm not going to be their little assassin this time. They can scream and shout and punish all they want. They're going to have to get someone else to do it. Which they've tried and failed because I'm actually the best. I'm the fucking best at this dirty job and anyone else they send in is second only to shit. Taki; a good example of their attempt to stop me. It didn't work. It very nearly worked, but not quite. I'll be more prepared next time. This though, this jungle isn't a Taki thing. He'd not use common explosives, he'd use that sword of his and he'd not want to do something so quickly, Taki likes things long and drawn out. He likes to see the suffering and pain and smell the fear. He likes to be looking into the eyes of his victim. That's what makes him weak. That's why he's a second rate bit of shit.

He's pretty though.

Why does that lot favour fags?

I rub at my eyes with my hand and then pull out another smoke and let my mind drift again to Hotchner. I'd kill him. I just need the word and the job would be done. I don't need to be told to do that whore JJ…I'll do that in my own time. Snapping that little neck is one pleasure I'll happily have and not ask for payment. Morgan…that dark skinned son of a bitch. I don't like even looking at him. Killing him would also be a pleasure, but I'd request something in exchange for that one. Rossi, I'd leave. Emily, dear, dear Emily; she's just a vessel for carrying my off spring. She's perfect in that respect. Her DNA is good and she's lusting after me like a beast. Yes, I'd have to keep her around too. Garcia, now I have nothing against that one either. I rather like her actually. I could get along with her. She's harmless.

And another smoke. I'm running out and I'm going to need Sam to help me prepare some more. I look down at my manked hand and arm again. I will kill Hotchner for this. I surely will. If I get out of this alive. I will kill him. I've just not decided just how I will go about doing that yet. I'll certainly make sure that they won't be able to have an open casket at his funeral though. Oh yes, I will make pretty damned sure of that. No amount of clever makeup is going to cover up what I'm going to do to that bastard.

Where was I when it happened? I dunno. Somewhere in my head fucking Little River I expect. Such sweet delight that boy was. I've been wondering recently if I could persuade them to send me back there. You know for a holiday. A vacation. A trip into the past to fuck that sweet little red skin boy. Man. He was a man. They mature faster back in those days. The age of consent was somewhat younger. You have to grow up fast when you live like that though don't you? So age isn't really something to worry about. He was a hunter. He was one of the men. I scratch at my nose and close my eyes for a while imagining watching that lovely tanned butt running in front of me. It makes my stomach twist. I didn't realise I'd missed him until now. This has brought all those memories flooding back to me.

When the scream happens I jump. I let out a strange _wh-Urg-fuck _sound and scrabble to my feet and look around me slightly dazed. I feel drugged. I feel like something climbed inside my head and took me away for a while. I wasn't asleep but I might as well have been. Fine camp guard I turned out to be. Got lost in Little River's back side there for a bit.

It's Spencer who is screaming. It is Sam who's shouting 'What in the name of fuck was that?!' And I leap into that little tent thing I made in one heroic bound.

When I set this place up it had a smell of leaves and earth. A good smell. A smell I can get used to easily. Now that smell has changed. Now all I can smell is shit and dirt and fear and piss and blood. The light is really dim and I can't see too well. When something drips onto my head I look up. The next drop drips onto my mouth and I instinctively lick my lips.

'Spencer.' I'd know the taste of his blood anywhere.

He's still screaming and I'm all over him calling out and asking what the hell happened.

'It was a thing! I saw it.' Sam is shouting. 'Fuck it was gross…It bit him I think.'

And Spencer has curled up on his side and there is blood everywhere. I can smell it more than see it.

'What was it Sam.' I try to pull Spencer over onto his back so I can see what happened. 'What did you see?'

'I think it was a Flanweir.' His voice sounds scared and so it should be. If that's what he saw.

I get Spence onto his back and he's screaming and flailing at me. 'Shut up Spence!' I say and try to grab both his arms with just one of my hands and this isn't going to work is it?! 'Sam, help me!' The more Spencer struggles the more of the blood goes flying. It's dripping from everywhere now.

Let me pause things for a touch here though. You might be wondering what a Flanweir is. Well it's small and nasty; when it's not being big and nasty. It comes from somewhere stinking and vile. It can shape shift. It's sort of a small twisted icky demonic creature that likes to hurt and cause damage. Outright death counts from one is pretty low. They make you delusional. They bite and poison and make you do the most insanely stupid arse things in the universe. They the sit back and watch you destruct yourself. You can google it or wiki it if you want, but you'll not find it there. They're not so much into computer tech where they come from. All word of mouth. No pun intended. What I have to do now is unpause this and suck out as much poison as I can and with Spencer screaming and thrashing about like that I'm going to need a hand or two to help. My left arm is still not working you see?

'Sam now!'

and he's there sitting on Spencer's chest and crossing his legs over one of Spencer's flailing arms giving me the task of just having to avoid his kicking feet and grab his arm. The bite is above his wrist on the inside. There's a lot of blood. A hell of a lot of blood, but not so much I can't help fix this. I hope. But first I need to get out as many toxins as I can.

'This is the shit that happens when you're off your face.' I snap at Spencer. 'If you'd been awake you'd have fucking well known what the shit was going on.' I spit out my angry words and then put my mouth on that wound and start to suck. It's like being a vampire I suppose, but don't get your knickers in a twist I'm not making him into one of the undead, I'm just trying to get him so he'll more use than a sack of shit – a sack of delusional shit – tomorrow, or later today, whenever. I can taste him in my mouth and it sort of clicks on an internal switch of mine and I want a hell of a lot more than just sucking on his wrist. He tastes so wondrous that my own blood and brains flow straight to my groin which in turn starts making demands of me.

Suck and spit.

No swallowing right now…not yet anyway. I can taste that sweet blood and something sour under it. In the back of my throat. Something which shouldn't be there.

Suck and spit.

I glance over to Sam who is stroking the side of Spencer's face and muttering words to him. Words of comfort? I don't know, can't concentrate on it for long enough. Blood is pounding in my ears.

Suck and spit.

Sam's leaning over Spencer who has stopped wriggling around now and is just writhing slightly…just enough to get my own personal juices flowing, but Sam's mouth is too close to Spencer's. 'Stop that Sam.' And I spit greenish, reddish muck in his direction. His head turns and he looks at me.

'He was saying something. I was just trying to hear is all.'

'You listen with your mouth?'

I don't wait for an answer I go back to Spencer's wrist and carry on trying to get as much out of him as I can. I won't get it all. I know that, but that's OK, by tomorrow we will be out of here. I stop my administrations and sit back on my heels looking at them both.

'I've got an idea.' I tell them, but only Sam looks my way. He slides off Spencer's chest and gives me a strange wondering look. 'Tomorrow at first light, and I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier, tomorrow we will fly out, thus avoiding the traps that those bastards leave.'

'What in the name of fuck are you talking about?'

'It makes sense.' I tell him and smile. 'I just don't know why I didn't think of it before.'

'I'll tell you why. Because you're weren't a delusional stupid fuck before…Nope…before you were just a stupid fuck. Great, now you're going to unfurl your wings and carry us out of here. Fantastic idea dad. Best I've heard for a long fucking time!' He starts unwinding the thing from around his head. 'You're going to need something to use on that arm of his.'

I don't know what he's talking about. Actually it might be better if I…. 'Sam…leave that on your face. You'll frighten the kids.'

'What kids?' He winds it back onto his messed up face though.

'Any kids. Actually Sam…you're what? Around sixteen now? Tell you what I'm going to do. I'll leave you two here. Fly out now and get a route planned and then I'll get help and come back for you.'

'Dad? How much of that shit from Spencer did you take down? Can you actually hear what you're saying?'

'No, no, no, it's not that, not that at all…I'd just not thought of it before.'

'I think I know why you've not thought of it before. Because you cant fly! You stupid freak!'

I blink and look at him. 'Of course I can. We are here! It just hadn't occurred to me.'

'You can't! That stuff you sucked out has gone straight to your head!'

-o-o-o-

'He can try.' I say. I can hear them arguing and it does make some sort of sense. The arguing stops and they both look at me.

'See! See I can at least try.' Floyd is grinning and yeah, I think he's right.

'You fly, we can follow underfoot. It will be fine. You can spot things from up there and warn us. Tell us how much further we have to go.'

'He can't sodding well fly though!' Sam is standing and shouting loud enough for the whole jungle to be able to hear him.

'Quieten down Sam. If he says he can, then he can.'

I see Sam's eyes flickering from me to Floyd and back again. 'We're fucked.' He says and sits down again with a sigh.

* * *


	19. Confusion

**a/n: yet more nasties….**

Part nineteen: Confusion

* * *

'I just need to climb a tree.' Dad suddenly announces after about half an hour of quiet. I thought he'd gotten over his thoughts of flying but obviously not. 'And with the elevation I should be able to just go for it.'

'And break your stupid neck. That's all you'll manage to do. And besides you can't climb with one arm.'

I can see Spencer is listening to what we are saying but he's prodding at the wound the creature made which has stopped bleeding, but hell that was a lot of blood loss.

'You'll help me though wont you?'

'Help you break your neck again?'

'I won't. You just don't understand.' He stands up and walks over to me. 'I need you to understand.'

'I do understand. Really I do. I understand that you're both insane and I'm going to have to persuade you that you can't fucking well fly.' How he's kneeling down in front of me.

'How would you understand little one?' His fingers start touching my face and so I knock them out of the way.

'Pack it in for the love of the gods…little one? What you on about? Of course I understand. I understand that you're both infected and we are all going to die because of it. Great. What a fantastic way to end our picnic.'

'Come with me.' He grabs my hand now. 'Down to the river. I want to show you something.'

I try to pull my hand away from him but he has a tight grip now and a strange far away look on his face. 'Dad? What damned river?' I keep twisting my hand to try to get away but he's pulling me up to my feet now.

'You know the one.'

Spencer is watching closely now.

'No Dad, I don't know the one. What bloody river? And we can't leave Spencer here alone.' Not that I give a shit about Spencer but I want to distract dad from whatever's going on in his head now. He seems to have forgotten about the flying for now, which is good, but I don't like where this seems to be going. I don't like where dad seems to think he's going.

'I'm fine here.' Spencer says. 'You two go and sort things out. I'll wait.'

'See, he's fine. He'll wait. He won't wander off. He'll just wait, wont you Spence.'

'I could do with something to help me relax though, you know?'

And dad nods and lets go of my hand and takes something from his pocket and throws it to Spencer. 'Just a little bit at a time. Don't take too much. I'll be back. I need to show this one something. I have to do something.'

But I've moved out of range now. I'm not bloody well going anywhere with him. 'What are you doing giving him your shit?! What the hell are you doing?!' and I'm shouting at him. 'It's one thing thinking you're going to be able to fly out of here, it's another giving him your snort! He'll kill himself! You need that stuff yourself.' I'm backing away from him. I'm getting ready to run faster than I've ever run before. I have a very nasty feeling about this.

'He'll be fine. You'll be fine wont you Spence?'

But Spencer doesn't reply. He's looking at the thing in his hand and smiling at it like some fucking kid who just got given a load of sweets.

'There sorted. Everyone is happy, now come with me. I have to show you something.' He's moving towards me at a horribly fast speed and I'm backing away from him not fast enough, but I'd rather fight him off standing up than lying down. I don't want to trip over. Not now.

'Don't you bloody come near me you nutter!' I shout out to him, but he just moves in faster…there is that odd look on his face again.

'Come on little one. I'll not hurt you.'

'Like hell you won't! Keep away from me! Go fly or something…'

'I have to show you something first.' And suddenly his fingers are wrapped around mine and they are holding so tightly that I think he's going to break my bones.

'Let go of me! I'm not going to any freaking river with you! Dad, listen to me! You've been infected…you're not thinking right!'

But he's not listening. He's smiling. He's dragging me behind him. 'Spencer! Help me!' I holler out, but Spencer is still looking at the thing he has between his fingers. It's like nothing else exists anymore.

I kick out at him. I use my other hand to try to pull my fingers out of his grasp, but he just holds on tighter. I fall to the floor but he doesn't seem to notice and just pulls me behind him. 'Stop! Let me at least get up!' and he pauses and looks around at me and he's smiling still and I hate that smile. It's creepy and un-natural and he's way off in his brain somewhere. I don't know if he can see who I am anymore. I really don't think he knows what the hell he's doing.

'Not much further.' He lets me know as I get back to my feet.

'There is no river.' I hiss at him.

'There will be. Don't worry. It will be over quickly. You'll not even feel it.'

'Feel what? What are you going to do?' I thought he was going to fuck me, but now I'm not so sure. 'Dad, please get a grip, I don't think I'm who you think I am…those things infected you. You had their poison in your mouth. Dad!' But he's not listening to me; he's just pulling me further away and deeper into the jungle. I bite him. I scratch at his sore back. I punch at his swollen shoulder, but nothing slows him down. I'm going to have to wait until we get to wherever he thinks we are going and just deal with it then. I will need my strength to fight off whatever it is he has planned for me and so I give up trying to get away and just walk next to him.

Bastard is going to try to kill me. I know that much, and I'm going to have to try to stop him and I don't know if I can.

-o-o-o-

I roll the small package between my fingers for a little while. My arm is throbbing and there is a strange swelling coming up around where the tooth marks are. Floyd bit me. I don't know why he did that. I have no idea why he would do that. But for now the bleeding has stopped. I feel horribly light headed and my heart is thumping too hard in my chest. It will be good if the two of them can sort things out. Yes that will be good. I'll like that. The squabbling gives me a headache sometimes. When Floyd gets flying and we can follow then much of this nightmare will be over.

Just one pinch of this won't hurt though. Just a small amount to relax me. Not to knock me out. Not to take me to that special place, but you know? Just enough to relax me. Just enough so I don't have to see the over bright greens and the over bright reds. Just enough so I don't have to think for a little while. Something to help me to forget. There is too much going on in my head. Always too much. Too many words rushing around in there. Sometimes they become hard to control. I have to do something to stop them. I have to do something to control what they are doing. Statistics, information, things, things, things, words floating there. Ideas and voices always there. This stops that. Floyd stops it too. He lets me think of something else. Not always nice things. Sometimes pain…other times intense wondrous pleasure, but it's not the statistics and things and words which I hear all the time. This stuff is a substitute. I'm not addicted to it. I could resist it if I wanted to. I just don't feel that there is a need to resist it right now. The same with that stuff I got from Hankel. I could have stopped taking that from the off set, but I didn't want to at first and then I realised that if I pretended I was having problems then Floyd would give me more pleasure. That's the only reason. Really it was. It's not that I was addicted to the drugs and I'm not addicted to this either. My game. It was my game.

I take a small pinch of the stuff and lay back on the leaves.

Maybe he can show me how to fly? I'll have to ask him that when he gets back with Sam. If he comes back with Sam. I have a feeling that maybe he won't. I have a strange feeling somewhere inside me that Floyd's going to do something to the boy.

Ah well. Saves me from having to do something.

And I will.

Deep breath.

Inhale.

Slide away to somewhere nice.

Or maybe I should follow them? See what he's going to do?

-o-o-o-

'Uh – why don't you just fly to where we are going?' I ask as he breaks out into his loping run.

'Don't need to. Nearly there.' Run, run, fucking run. 'Anyway, you don't have wings.'

'Nor do you actually.'

'You'll see. I'll show you.'

'Yeah, I'd really like to see that.' Sarcastic tone is lost on him though. Everything seems to be lost on him. It seems we have reached where we are going though it's not a river, just another track through this jungle place. Maybe even the same track we were on earlier. It's hard to tell. All of this place looks the same to me.

'Here.' He announces and pulls me around to look at him. 'One more time before you go.'

OK that doesn't sound good to me. 'One more what before I go where?'

His hand grabs my hair and pulls me close. Too close. Ah crap. 'Dad stop it. That hurts.' Kick, wriggle, squirm. I turn my face away from him. I don't want that mouth near me. I don't want that damned infection. I don't want to think I can fly and end up a squished nothing in the jungle of doom.

'All pain is good in the end. Don't worry so much.'

His voice is still strange and distant.

'All pain isn't good! Not when it's my pain! Let the hell go of me you nutter!'

Something flickers across that grinning face of his; almost as though he could see properly what was going on for a second and then that damned mouth is on me, licking and sucking on my neck. 'Come on now. Don't go all shy on me now and quit that kicking.'

-o-o-o-

Ah this is so good. I thought I'd never see him again. I'm not sure why he's resisting me so much, but it has been a while. He'll get used to me again. I do have to smack him around a bit though. Only a bit. A quick sharp fist to his face has him flying back onto the ground where I want him. I can hear the river. A beautiful sound and there he is…laying there waiting for me. Wanting me. But today is going to be just a repeat of what happened before. One more time. Just one more time. And as he lays there stunned and still I kick him over onto his front and move in. He'll remember. I know he will. No one ever forgets me. This damned arm of mine is causing me a problem. He's wriggling again and he knows how much I love that. For a while I like it anyway. Compliant and still is even better. I move in quickly and press his pretty face into the forest floor. The squirming continues for only a short while. Good boy, he's remembered to keep still for me. Once still I take my time. I move my mouth over his back while my hand removes that small bit of clothing he has on. For a while he was shouting something, but it made no sense to me. It seemed almost like he thought I was someone else. It's all good now though. He's still and quiet and I take him hard. I've wanted this for so long. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. A shame I'm going to have to repeat what happened before though, but orders are orders. I need to do what I was told. Maybe I let myself get too close to him. Let my emotions over take my sense for a bit. He makes a few snuffling groaning sounds but he can't get away from me now.

It's nearly time. Nearly time to finish this. And I move my mouth over the back of his neck as my body starts to shake…

-o-o-o-

Well that's about what I expected.

I'm not going to put up with this.

He's not going to mess with me like this.

I have a sturdy branch in my hand and I stand and watch him for a while. I see clearly what he's doing and it makes me feel sick. I rub at my arm for a bit which seems to be going a strange colour around the edges of the bite and small lines of dark red are spreading up my arm towards both my hand and my elbow, but it will be OK. I just have to do this first and all will be OK. I look at his back and I wait. I have to time it just right. I have to attack when I see that he's not going to be able to back off from Sam and defend. I know when that time will be. I just have to wait. Be patient. Stay calm. I rub with irritation at my arm again and start thinking of the thing in my pocket. He used it to distract me, but I'm not stupid. I know what's going on here.

There it is. The time is right. Floyd won't know what hit him.

I swing hard with the branch across the back of his head. At first nothing happens. He doesn't stop what he's doing, but then slowly he seems to just slump and collapse onto Sam's wriggling back. I swing again and when he doesn't move or make a sound I get closer and a good kick to his side causes him to slide out of the way.

'Sam.' I hiss through my clenched teeth. 'Sam!' And he does what I want and turns over to look at me. He has bubbles of snot around his nose and a bit of blood in the corners of his mouth and he stares up at me.

'Thank you.' He whispers and looks over at Floyd.

'Don't thank me too soon boy.' And now I am using my weapon on him. I place the end of it on Sam's neck and press down. 'I only came all this way to do this to you. I don't want him killing you off. I want that pleasure all to myself.' Two hands move up and grip the thing pressing into his neck and he pulls it away from himself and rolls away from me at the same time. A speedy little thing he is.

'Spencer. Listen to me. Look at your arm. You're infected. You're not thinking right. Neither of you are!'

'Maybe so. Maybe you're right. Perhaps I am infected with something.' I take a quick look at my arm. 'But that doesn't change the fact that you need to die.' The words sound wrong in my ears and I can't figure out why. I repeat them to see if it sounds better the second time around. 'You need to die.' No…it still sounds wrong. At some point the improvised weapon has fallen from my hand and now I'm just standing looking between the two of them. 'I don't understand.' I start rubbing at my arm again.

'Good…Spencer that's actually good. You've been infected. It makes you think strange things. You've got the sort of mind that can fight it, like I have to fight these things inside me. You can do it. Just focus.'

'He was having anal intercourse with you.' He states.

'Not my idea! Not what I wanted. I couldn't get away. He thought I was someone else. Really Spencer he's as confused as you are.' He's pulling his scant clothing back on. 'Help me out here Spencer. Help me. He's going to go ballistic when he comes round, or he's going to think he can fly again.'

I frown at Sam. 'He can't fly?'

'Can you see any damned wings? I can't see any! Get your head straight! I know you can do it.'

I stand for a while and just look at Sam. There is a deep dislike for the boy, but enough to want him dead? That's very unlikely. I'd not wish death onto anyone, least of all a child, yet I know he did something. What that thing was seems to have become distant and distorted. 'You do need to die.' I tell him again, though the words hold no conviction now. They are hollow and empty. Sam is moving fast away from me. His eyes going from Floyd to me and back again. 'I should check on him.' I look over to Floyd who strangely hasn't moved again since I smacked him.

'Whatever you think's best Spencer but he's going to have all sorts of things going on in his head. He's going to be thinking you've turned against him. He's going to try to kill you, but don't let it stop you. Go right ahead and check him out why don't you? Go for it. Why you just standing there doing nothing? Go make sure you didn't kill him. You know killing him here would be rather bad for both of us don't you? I mean if _we_ die here we still have our other selves back someplace else…there'll still be hope for us, but kill him here and he's fucked cos he only has that there. No other him waiting for that him to come back. We'd be stuck.'

'You are making no sense Sam.' I walk slowly towards Floyd, bending down and picking up my length of wood along the way. I'm not going in there unarmed.

'You're somewhere else really. Remember? He made you take drugs?'

'I didn't take them.' My hand moves to my pocket.

'Not those drugs you stupid arse! Not those.' He sighs and falls back onto the jungle floor. 'The other ones. The ones where you came from before you came here.'

I shake my head at him. I don't know what he's talking about. I've always been here haven't I? I prod Floyd with the stick. 'Wake up.' I prod him harder. 'Wake up!' I feel sweaty and sick. Something feels wrong…so wrong, but I don't know what! I don't know what things are meant to be like any more. I turn back to Sam who is watching me closely. 'Help me. Help him. I don't know what to do.'

-o-o-o-

One minute I'm dreaming about Little River and my final fuck fantasy and the next I'm on my back and Spencer is forcing something down my throat. I slap him away at the same time I realise that I have a god awful headache.

'What you doing? Get the fuck off me! What the hell happened? Who the fuck hit me? Spencer? Did you hit me? Where's Little River? Why is Sam here? Where the hell are we? Why are you here?'

'Wait up.' Spencer is saying. 'You ermm…'

'Fell out of a tree.' Sam says.

'I what?'

'You were going to show us how to fly and you slipped and fell. You're going to be fine. I made some stuff up for you to drink. It's OK. Little River, whoever the hell that is, was never here, you dreamed it all up when you smacked your head. Just drink this.'

I know something happened. I remember very clearly that Little River was here. I was fucking him. I can't imagine something as fine as that. If it wasn't him then who the hell did I screw? 'Who did I….?'

'Me.' Spencer says and holds something out for me again. 'Drink this. You got an infection. Sam made a poultice for my arm to draw out the toxins…it seems to be working. Drink this. It will clear you head.'

I don't want to drink their shit. They are both lying to me. I can smell it on them. I didn't fall and I didn't screw Spencer. It's not him I can smell on me. It's Sam. I took Sam? Hell I can't remember it being him, but that's who it smells of. I get to my knees and half crawl over to him. He backs off a little bit then stops. I'm sure he knows what I'm doing. I can see his alarm. I'm a gonna find out. I'ma gonna know he's a fucking liar. I'm then going to finish what I started earlier and kill the bastard for his deceit. 'Why Sam can I smell me on you if it was Spencer I had?'

'You can't! You're imagining it! It's the damned thing…the poison!'

'You fucking liar! I can smell the lies flowing off you! It was you I had. Your sweet little arse I was enjoying! Why are you telling me otherwise?!'

He prods at the bandage thing around his face and shrugs at me. 'I guess I thought that it'd be better if you didn't know what you did to me, cos now both me and Spencer want to see you dead. And you and Spencer want to see me dead…and I don't give a crap in hades if you all die or not right now! I'm sick of you all! You just lie and attack and whimper and lie some more then expect everyone to feel sorry for you! But get this both of you…I don't feel sorry for you! You…' Sam is pointing at me. 'Are an evil son of a bitch whose only goal in life is to hurt and maim and eat and fuck…You…' Sam now points at Spencer. 'You let people do what they want to you then go moaning and whining about it when it doesn't suit you. You're pathetic! Both of you are pathetic and stupid and perverted and insane. And I wish I'd never met either of you. I wish I was back with the clan and being beaten and fucked over by that lot. At least they were consistent! At least then I wasn't having to watch my back all the time. I knew what their agenda is. I have no idea from one second to the next with you two. Go fight out your lovers squabbles somewhere else. Leave me out of it! I don't want to know about it! I don't want to be a part of it.'

I raise an eye brow and take the drink from Spencer who is sitting down just staring at Sam.

'Well…you got that off your chest. What's in this drink then?' I ask him.

'Stuff, just stuff. I was trying to help. I was just trying to stop you from killing yourself, though why I bothered I don't know. It's helped Spencer and the only reason I helped him was because I didn't want to be here all alone with you waking up at any point having a psychotic tantrum. I wasn't far wrong was I?'

'I don't have psychotic tantrums…and the reason you don't want me dead is because I'm the one who can get you out of this mess.' I sip at the drink and want to gag it's so vile, but I'll do it. My mouth feels tingly and strange anyway this cant do much more damage than it seems already has been done. Shit my head's killing me.

'Why did you hit me Spence?' I know it was him, but my mind is still fuzzy and confused. Firstly I don't know how he managed to hit me and me not know about it and secondly I don't know why he'd hit me.

'You fell out…you fell. From a tree.'

'No, you came up behind me and smacked me with a tree branch.'

'Right yes, I smacked you with a tree branch. Are you happy now?' He's twisting his fingers together in his tell tail way which shows me he is nervous. And so he bloody well should be.

'And you lied to me because?' I drop the dipped cup of a leaf to the floor and stand.

'Because you'd not listen. Because you …'

Sam cuts him off. 'Because you were going to kill me and he didn't want you to. He wanted that job for himself.' And Sam is standing now. I rub at my eyes with the heels of my hands and look between the two of them.

'I have no, _no,_ fucking idea what's going on anymore. I suggest that we all go back to the camp and sleep this off…whatever this is.'

Sam speaks up again. 'And I suggest that while we all see to be at the stage where we can think and aren't going to try to kill each other that we try to get out of this damned place.'

This is causing me some confusion. Why would I want to kill Sam? I have no memory of trying or wanting to do that at all. I remember falling asleep…I feel asleep? I remember falling asleep and dreaming about Little River. He's been on my mind a lot recently. I lift my good working hand and smell my fingers and then look sideways at Sam and then over at Spencer and then back at Sam again. 'Was I sleep walking?'

'No.' Sam tells me. 'You were very much awake. You just thought I was someone else.'

I nod at him and give Spencer a small smile. 'And Spence do you have my snort?' And he gives a slight shake of his head. I repeat what I said because I don't think he could have heard me correctly. 'Spencer do you have my snort?' Again a shake of the head. So I try something different. 'Spence Babes, I know you have my snort and I'd very much like it back.' A shake of the head again. 'I'm going to have to come and take it from you if you don't hand it back.'

'Just give him his damned stuff back Spencer. Stop causing a fucking fuss about the damned stuff. Just give it back then we can get going and get the hell out of this place.'

Again Spencer shakes his head. 'I've been thinking.' He starts. 'That you Floyd need Sam and I. You need us alive. I'm not sure why and I'm not sure I want to know why, but I know that you need us alive. I'm sure if you didn't then we'd both by dead by now. You're putting your own skin at risk where you don't need to. That's telling me something. You need us. Not forever, I'm sure of that much, but for now you do. This infection, it's maybe made me think strange things, but it's also managed somehow to quieten some of those voices in my head. Those nagging insistent voices. And that's given me the chance to think about what this game is of yours. You're taking us somewhere. You're going to use us both for something to save your own skin.'

He's right you know. I do need him and Sam alive. I need them for when get there. And sometimes I'm sure I'll be able to do what will be necessary when I arrive and then at other times, times like now, I'm not so damned sure. I look at that face of his and can't imagine a life without that being around. But did I think the same about Little River? I might have done. I think I actually probably did, but you know sometimes you just have to take the risk and throw caution to the wind and hope that things turn out for the better. With my little bum buddy Little River things didn't work out as I wanted. There didn't let me pull him back again. I took that out on a lot of people. Many suffered because of that I had to do to him and I think that might happen all over again and it's not a place in my life I want to revisit. What I want is my self back in control. I want this mess to be over and I want to go home with Spencer and forget this shit ever happened. I look now over at Sam and think about what I was doing to him. He could be useful. But not to the point I can't replace him. I could. I have done. He's not the first. The problem is with replacing Sam is that each time the next one is slightly nastier than the one before and I am slightly weaker. It's giving away too much of me. The line is becoming corrupted if you will. If you understand what I'm saying. There's only so many goes you get then you have to return to the ones who created you and ask for a new pass code sort of thing so that you can start over again. And there lies my problem. The ones who created me, well let's put it like this, we're not on the most friendly of terms at the best of times. I don't think, no, I know that they're not going to have any sympathy when it comes to my need to create more of what I constantly destroy.

'Yeah, you're probably correct.' I finally say. 'I need you, I need you both. It's complicated though. I'm not going to go into the whole story now, we'll still be here talking about it when the horsemen arrive.'

'Horsemen?' Sam is walking in small circles now.

'See? One comment and the questions start. Imagine I tell you the whole fucking lot? Give me my shit back Spencer. I don't trust you with it.'

'When we get out of here I'll give it back. I feel a strange need to keep hold of it for now.'

I curl my lip in annoyance at him but stop myself from flying in to attack him. 'That's because you're a junky Spence. Are you sure you can hold back from taking some when I'm not looking?'

'I'm sure of it. I'm not a junky Floyd. Not anymore than you have the ability to fly.'

Oh he's got me on that one. The little bastard.

* * *


	20. The Black Line

Part twenty: The Black Line.

* * *

We finally made a decision. There was a bit of shouting from Floyd and some angry but tired words from Sam, but the decision was finally made. We left our camp behind and started to trek through this god forsaken place again. Obviously Floyd took the lead and though he was muttering for a short while about flying that soon wore off into a strange silence from him. The swelling on my arm became less itchy and irritating as the angry red lines of infection slowly dissipated. I walked behind Floyd and Sam took up the rear. Thinking about it that was maybe not the right thing to do. I know it never crossed my mind and I am sure it didn't cross Floyd's either but it would seem that it's not just an exchange of blood which can cause that strange infection. I could tell that something was wrong. Something wasn't right with Sam, but stupidly I assumed he was as tired as I was. I thought that the moaning and grunts and heavy breathing were just his way of saying that he needed a rest. Things might have been different had I bothered to turn and look at him. Or even if Floyd had turned to look at him, but we both ignored it as tiredness and stress slowly gathered speed and caught up with us.

'Can we take a break?' I finally asked.

Floyd had been picking leaves and other things from the trees as we walked by them. I think probably it was going to be our lunch. It was only then that he stopped and turned to look.

'Five minutes maybe. I want to get us out of this place before nightfall. Or at least find something more secure than we had last night.' He's looking past me at Sam. 'What's wrong?' He asks him and now I turn to look at him. There's something wrong with him. I can tell straight away that there's something wrong. I don't know what it is, but there is something in his eyes which looks old and maybe evil.

'Nothing's wrong.' He snaps back. 'Why would there be anything wrong? I know what you're doing you know.'

Another argument seems to be brewing. Why does every conversation have to turn into a bitch fight?

'I'm not doing anything.' Floyd answers him and he walks up close to me and takes my arm and pulls me back away from Sam. 'What do you _think_ I'm doing?'

'It's a trap.'

And I'm pulled further back. 'What's a trap?' I get a look at the worried expression on Floyd's face now and that is cause of some concern for me. I don't like it when Floyd looks worried. It usually follows with violence of some kind. I want to get through just one day with no fists or teeth or emotional battering.

Sam spreads his skinny dirty arms to indicate all around him. 'All of this. I'm not going with you.' And now Sam has turned his back and is going back the way we just came.

'Talk to me Sam. Tell me what's the trap?'

'Screw you! I'm not going to die again for you! I'm just not going to do it! I know what's going to happen. I know that we are only here so you can throw us down at the end of it. You're just a selfish son of a bitch and I'm not going to go.'

I stand back and listen to the birds singing and let out a sigh. _Here we go again. Accusations and denials…will it ever stop? _But there is no denial this time just a shift in the way Floyd is standing and a single shoulder shrug. 'You'll not survive long out here on your own.' He tells Sam.

'I'd rather not! I'd rather get torn apart by some monster than go through the effort of staying alive just so you can show the boss that you're capable of ripping me apart and eating me.'

'And who said I was going to do that?' He pushes me back a bit further and takes a step closer to Sam. 'It's those things in side of you Sam. You've forgotten to fight them.'

It's amazing how fast Floyd can move. It's inhuman. No man can move with that speed. It's almost so fast that you don't see it happen. He just seems to move from one place to the next and not the do the bit in the middle. I've experienced that many times. I've thought I was at a safe distance only to realise too late that there is no such thing when it comes to Floyd. He's on Sam faster than I can blink and certainly faster than Sam can move. I listened out for the sound of fist on flesh but there wasn't one. Not this time at least. This time Floyd grabs him around the neck and holds him tight and then he's lifting him slightly off the ground.

'I could kill you now if that was my intention. Pull yourself together. Push those things back.'

But Sam doesn't. His feet are flying and they land hard between Floyd's legs. There are no shouts. No grunts. It's like it's done with the sound muted, but Floyd doesn't seem to feel it and I've seen this with him before. Sometimes you could hit him with a train between those legs of his and get no reaction. It's a trick he's never bothered showing me.

'I can smell it on you.' Floyd tells Sam as his fingers dig into the side of his neck. 'You're infected. You need some of whatever it was you gave me and Spence.'

I watch Sam's hands go for Floyd's face and I see Floyd take a step back, but he's not let go of him and I can see that the bit of struggle Sam did have is slowly leaving him.

Closing my eyes brings back memories. I know only too well how it feels to have Floyd crushing the life out of you. It makes my stomach twist and a strange heat fill by body. A rush of adrenaline far more satisfying than any drug I've ever taken. It makes the hair on my arms stand up and causes my skin to tingle with anticipation, only it's not happening to me. It's Sam getting this bit of pleasure. I walk slowly up behind Floyd and touch the lump on the side of his head where I hit him earlier. 'Put Sam down.' I tell him. 'Put him down Floyd.' And my fingers are winding their way through his dirty hair and I need him so much that I'm going to explode if he doesn't do something. 'Please put him down.' And my mouth is exploring his shoulder and the back of his neck. Slowly he turns to face me. I don't know at what point he let go of Sam but his hand is now touching me and not the boy. His hand is moving over my chest and downwards and my hands are touching him across his ribs and down to the front of his jeans.

'You've picked a bad time.' He moans into my mouth as he starts an exploration with his tongue. 'And you stink.' He then says as he moves back. 'I'm not really interested in you when you smell like shit.' And suddenly he's got his back to me again and my hands are on his back and then on his sides and I'm pulling him back towards me.

'Please.' I'm begging him. I shouldn't do that. I shouldn't beg him, but I need to feel wanted. I need to feel as though there is someone in my life who doesn't _have_ to like me because they work with me or because they are family or I am paying them. I just need to feel that it's me Floyd wants and not that filthy animal Sam. My hands move to his hips and my fingers slide under his waist band. 'Please.' I'm sounding desperate and I can't stop myself.

'Stop!'

Floyd's voice screams through the jungle causing a sudden squall of noise as the birds take to flight.

'Just stop it!'

I drop my hands to my sides and watch as Floyd moves right out of the way of both Sam and I.

'Let's get some things straight here. I'm not in the mood for either of your fun and games. This isn't the time or the place for this. Just try to control yourselves for once will you. Take a deep breath and remember where you are and who the hell I am and remember that I'm the one calling the shots here not either of you two. If I want to drag you through this jungle I will. If I want to fuck you I will. If I want to snap both of your necks I will. You have no fucking say in what's going on here. So keep your hands off me. Let me think and just….' He pauses his monologue and walks in a small circle. He seems to have forgotten that he was just trying to strangle Sam. 'Just shut the fuck up and keep off me!' He pushes his hair behind his ears and starts walking again. Sam is sitting on his butt rubbing his neck looking less than happy and I'm glancing between him and my own sore blistered feet.

That night we spend curled up against each other. Sam is in front of me and Floyd is behind me. We circle arms around each other and I know that Sam is sleeping long before I am and I suspect that Floyd stayed awake. For once we seemed to be able to just lay there and relax. When I wake up as the light starts to filter through the trees both Sam and Floyd are gone. I roll over onto my back and look around and see them sitting talking and smoking together. Things look sort of normal. As normal as they could do considering we are in a jungle.

'Good morning sleepy head.' Floyd says when he sees me looking at him. 'Want a smoke? Sam got some ready for me. A bit green maybe…but better than nothing.'

I give him a smile and stand to walk over to him. I take a deep breath of morning air and realise that something has changed. 'What's that smell? Not the smoke…that other smell?' It's tangy and strange and not one I'm particularly used to, but it smells like the sea.

Floyd holds up a smoke for me to take from him, but I shake my head. 'It's the sea.' He confirms for me. 'A few hours walk away still I'd think. It seems to have snuck up on us as we rested.' He gives me a small almost smile. 'I'm not sure just what we are going to do once we get there, but I'm hoping it will give us the chance to wash at least.' He picks something from between his teeth with his finger nail and gives me another small smile. 'You nice and rested? Want something to chew on whilst we walk? There's the chance of getting something more than raw leaves to eat once we can see exactly where we are going, but I think this part of our journey is almost over. That's cause for a smile at least isn't it?'

'I'll wait for food. Let's see what's there first.' I say as I sit down next to him. 'You know I really do smell revolting. I might need more than sea water to get this smell off me.'

-o-o-o-

Dad woke me in the middle of the night. He jabbed at me with his booted toe until I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

'With me. Quickly. Don't wake Spencer.' He sighed down at me. I knew what he wanted. He always wants the same only now I seem to be the thing he's got his eyes on all the time. Spencer seems forgotten. I don't know if it's this place or if things have changed for him or if my arse is just so good he can't stop thinking about it, but he rejected Spencer earlier; that certainly didn't go un-noticed by me.

'I want to sleep.' I whisper back up at him. 'I'm tired.' And I get another jab with his toe.

'I need to do something.'

'No doubt you do, can't you do it with Spencer?'

He shakes his head. 'He's not the one causing trouble no is he? That stuff you gave him for his arm and you gave me to drink, it worked well. You've had good training Sam. You'll be an asset to any team, but right now you're still infected yourself and I need to fix that for you before we move on. I don't know how it's going to affect you when we get to the next place and once there we might not have the facilities to cleanse you sufficiently. So it is you I need.'

I push Spencer's hands off me and move carefully out of the way. I'm hoping that however careful I am that Spencer will wake up. I don't want to be beaten by dad cos I did it on purpose, but I don't want whatever dad has planned either. At least I don't think I want whatever he has planned. He takes my hand and moves me a bit away from Spencer and then pulls me behind a tree.

'Best not that he sees this.' I'm told as dad puts his hand on my shoulder. 'On your knees. A quick exchange…or rather gift should do the trick.'

At first I'm not sure what it is he's going to do. My own hands move to my clout in preparation, but a voice tells me to not bother.

'Na, it's fine Sammy boy. Leave yourself covered.' And he takes one of my hands and lifts it to the belt buckle he has had since time began probably. It's old and worn but the words still stand out fine against the battered buckle. "Whore" they say today. Sometimes it changes. Sometimes it says "SLUT" and I've seen it saying "FAG" too, thought that last one not so often. Today though it clearly is telling me that dad is a whore. I unsnap the buckle and look up at him.

'Cant pay you.' I tell him with a small smile on my face.

'The job done well is payment enough. I want to know how much you've learnt.'

And that was all the conversation there was until an hour or so later when I offered to make up some new smokes for him. He had already gathered the bits together and was sitting there staring off into the jungle sighing occasionally when I offered to roll some for him. He didn't answer but just picked up the stuff and placed it on my lap. I think the job was well done. He never complained anyway. I don't think that the reaction I got was a complaint anyway.

Now though we are walking again. Everyone seems relaxed and all appears good; for a while at least. We've not come across any other things waiting to explode or decapitate or bite us, so it's got to be good hasn't it? Either our test for here has past or they are waiting for our guard to be dropped again. It's a nice relief though when dad stops walking and puts up a hand to silence us.

-o-o-o-

'Nearly there.' I tell them and I should be feeling good about this, but I'm not. I've sort of become accustomed to this place and my nerves and senses have tuned in, but that's all going to change again soon. Other things are going to be put in my way to try to destroy me or my companions. I turn and look at them and it puts a smirk on my face. Had I not been so annoyed at this situation it might have morphed into a full fledged smile, but it doesn't; not quite. 'You two look completely disgusting.' I tell them and this puts a smile on Spencer's face and a frown on Sam's. 'I need to say something before we carry on. I can hear the sea. I can if I put a mind to it hear different birds calling out. Sea birds and shit. I don't know what's going to happen when we get there. Be on guard. Don't for the love of whatever you love go rushing forward. A few more yards I'd guess and we'll be able to see better where we are going. I'm not sure if it's going to be good or bad, but I'd assume the latter considering the last couple of places this trip has taken us to.' I get silent nods from them both and that's good enough for me. 'Anyone for a smoke before we carry on?' Sam puts a hand out and Spencer shakes his head. I pass a smoke to Sam and light it for him. Not a good smell. The leaves are green and the insides are slightly damp. It gives off a bad rotting odour, but the end result is the same. I drag in my own supply of herbal lung and mind calming smoke and smile around my cheroot. It's herbal. It's not damaging. It's far from addictive. It's just good. So fucking good that it makes me tingle in distracting places. Very distracting places, but one look at those two puts it at rest and we have to carry on. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to.

I turn my back on them and keep walking. I go around a large tree blocking my way and push my way through some difficult undergrowth and then around a smaller but still obscuring tree and there it is. This jungle ends as suddenly as it started. Only the view the other side isn't of lush grass. It's of sand and then a sea of bluish green which seems to go on forever. I can't even pick up the horizon from here. There is no curve in the distance but just a small strip of blue sky somewhere just beyond visual range. It's strange and wrong and I know immediately that everything is going to go from jungly and bad to sandy and worse. Sam and Spencer walk up next to me and just stare out at it. I wonder if they have picked up on the oddness of this place too.

'Don't step over the line.' I point to a black fuzzy line drawn on the ground a few feet in front of us. 'I don't think that there'll be any coming back once we cross that. It's like that green fog. We should get something to drink first and rest for a while before we cross.'

'Can they see us?' Spencer asks as he looks over at the people wandering along the sand.

'I think not. I'm not certain. Probably not.'

Scattered along the beach are a collection of brightly coloured tents. There are people moving around them and some sitting on deck chairs facing the sea. Some children are paddling in that sea and others are playing at digging in the sand. The way that they are dressed is strange. It's not a contemporary scene at all. The women are all in long dark dresses with white pinnies over the top of them. They have rounded white collars on their dresses and small white hats perched on the back of their heads. The men are dressed mainly in dark trousers and pale coloured shirts with dark jackets over the top of them. They are also wearing hats, but these ones are wide brimmed and flat topped and are in varying colours. The children are dressed in small versions of their, what I assume, are parents, except for the ones paddling who have rolled up trouser legs or pulled up dresses to expose their knees. They are all wearing hats though. I run my own hand over my head and look over at Spencer and Sam.

'I don't think we are dressed quite right for the occasion.' I grin. 'Maybe we should wait until they leave.' I have a much better plan brewing though but I need to execute that plan when Spencer's not looking. I don't think random murder is going to please him too much. There is also the problem that they all seem to be staying fairly close to each other. I don't know how I'm going to get in there and get clothing off them without someone seeing. I sigh and sit down. 'Go get me some water will you. I need to think about how to go about doing this.'

Sam is off in a flash but Spencer is walking over to me and sitting down next to me. 'What are you thinking?'

'That we'll get mobbed if we go there looking like this. Maybe further along the beach there is something we can use. I dunno Spence. I wasn't expecting people to be around. Go with Sam and get water. Drink a lot. I don't know how easy it's going to be to get once we are over that fucking line.'

'I can't place this.' He says to me.

'Place it? What you talking about?'

'The dress style. It doesn't fit correctly with any thing I know.'

'Well that's because we're not in Kansas anymore Toto. Now go water yourself Babes and be careful. Stay with Sam. Don't wander off and don't cross that line.'

'We were in Kansas?' He's standing now and looking behind him at Sam who's rummaging around collecting leaves to carry water with.

'No Spencer, we weren't.' And I pull out yet another smoke and light up. End of conversation and no fighting or bitching or slapping. We have come a long way.

I wait for him to go away and then chuck a stick over the line. It fizzles and disappears. Not good. I pick up another longer stick and keeping it in my hand I prod at the sand. It sort of distorts as though I'm dipping it in water but doesn't seem to mark the sand however hard I push it down or sweep it from side to side. This is odd. I can hear what is going on and I can smell the sea out there and hear the gulls circling. I can hear the distant chatter of people, but I can't alter anything. This certainly means that this is a one way trip. Or it means that it's going to vaporise us as soon as we step over the line. I drop the stick and the end which is over the line disappears. I pick it up again and the other end of the stick has gone. A puzzlement, but also it makes me think. It puts a smile on my face and I drag again deep and long at the cheroot Sam made up for me. Now I have my companions back sitting next to me with cupped leaves of water.

'We should enjoy the view while we have the chance.' I tell them and sip at the water handed to me. 'I have a small idea of what's going to happen when we go over there but no firm real reason for my ideas, which I'm going to keep to myself so's you'll not say _That's not what you said would happen_ Cos you just know how much I hate being wrong. I'll say one thing though. I doubt very much that our sexual orientation is going to be received with open arms, so if we could just not pounce on each other as soon as we step on the sand it would be good. Not that I think we should hide what we are or what we like but we should get some sort of idea of how these people are before we get ourselves lynched. It's too late once we are swinging from the nearest hanging post.'

'Yeah but…' Sam starts.

'No Sam, no butts. That's the whole point and you need to keep your hands off your damned cock in public. Just give it a go.'

'Oh funny, you really crack me up. No fucking pun intended in either word there.'

'Lewd gestures and words may not go down in our favour. Try to keep up some sort of front here at least. I know you can manage it Spencer. For a short while anyway. Sam I'm not so sure about. You might have to be introduced as my retarded younger brother.'

'Which will go down well until you're court getting a blow job off me again.'

I reach across and back hand him across the mouth. 'Shut the fuck up Sam.' But it's too late for that, Spencer heard and is giving me a side long look.

'What's that?' He's asking.

'Sam's wild and disturbed imagination.' I tell him and drink up the rest of my water. 'Time to go then? You both ready? Able to keep your hands to yourself?'

'Ready and waiting sir.' Sam tells me. 'But I don't want to be your retarded brother.

'Then don't act like one and we'll all be happy.' I throw the remains of my cheroot behind me and stand. 'Time to go a paddling!' I call and grabbing Spencer's hand and smiling at Sam we step over the line as one.

* * *


	21. The Acolyte and the Fairy Boy

Part twenty-one: The Acolyte and the Fairy Boy.

* * *

Well my first thoughts are 'Wow.' And they are likely my first words too. I was hoping for this but sometimes hope is not enough.

Spencer looks so totally fuckable that my warnings of not pouncing are making a mockery of how I'm feeling. Damnit he looks fine. That hair of his which was dirty and probably had a myriad of creatures crawling through it is now shiny and clean. It's pulled back and tied in a pony tail – which shows me exactly how much it's grown – a small black ribbon hangs from it. He's got on a pair of black trousers, the sort which fasten at the side, on his hip. He's got on a white shirt done up with tiny white buttons; the shirt has no collar and he has no neck tie, but he does have suspenders on to hold up his fine, oh so damned fine trousers, which seem to be fitting in all of the right places in a way only a god could wear them. Over the top he has on a heavy black jacket which is strangely short and fitted and comes to just bellow his hips. He's got on a pair of heavy lace up boots and one of those flat topped wide brimmed hats in his hand. He's looking at me and grinning broadly.

Sam is wearing similar things to Spencer but his hat is already on his head. His shirt is done up tight to his neck and there's a small silver necklace hanging down over the pale pinkish coloured fabric of his shirt. He is looking at his hands and running his fingers over what look to be tattoos of some kind and as he turns to me I can see that he seems to be wearing a line of eye liner under his eyes. Both eyes. He seems to have grown it back again. At least for now. He's frowning at me and holding out his hands for me to see. My grin stays on my face as I glance between the two of them. Such fine young men to be travelling with! Oh so very wondrous! If the rest of this journey turns bad at least I have this memory.

I have a quick look down to see what I'm wearing. A heavy jacket almost the same as Spencer's but a bit longer. There is a double row of silver coloured buttons. My shirt is white the same as Spencer's is but I have something tied around my neck. A thick almost choking bit of black cloth which is edged in very fine silvery coloured thread. My trousers seems to be much the same as Spencer's which I judge is why he's looking at me with that lust in his eyes. I have a hat on my head and a bag in my hands. I also seem to have a knife on the belt I have around my waist. My own belt I see, but the words on the buckle have changed. I run my fingers over those words and keep the smile on my face. Not even the words "The One" will take that smile off my face.

Nothing much will.

Yet.

It's after I've given the other two a good once over that I notice that the chattering and splashing from the beach has stopped. I look over and see that everyone is standing watching us.

'Don't talk. Don't say a fucking word.' I mutter between my teeth. I reach out to clasp Spencer and Sam by their hands then decide that it might not be the best move to make. It's then that I realise that my arm and shoulder are fixed. Stay calm…concentrate; I know that I've been fixed up for a reason and I don't much like that idea at all. One person is striding towards us. A big man. He's got to be about six five and very big around his middle. His stomach is pressing against his shirt trying to escape. He walks in silence and we stand unmoving in equal silence. I can hear the birds. I can hear the sea and I can hear my heart thumping in my chest. I have no fucking idea what's going to happen. No idea at all.

When the bloke with an over red and sweaty face finally reaches us he falls to his knees, in what I thought at first was going to be a heart attack, and he starts to kiss my damned boots! The word _fuck_ shouts out in my head. This seems to be getting worse and yet more interesting. He then moves back slightly and stands with his face looking at his own boots.

'Thank you. Thank you my lord for joining us. We have been awaiting your arrival. I hope that this appearance of frivolity has not offended you.'

'It's not offended me.' I say back in slow careful words avoiding the use of the words _fuck, sod, bastard and shit._ I draw in a deep breath and wonder what the hell they've been waiting for and what I've got in the bag which I've slung over my shoulder.

'You are too gracious my lord. We are honoured that you brought with you your young acolyte and the fairy boy.' His eyes drift to Sam when he says that and Sam, wonders of wonders keeps his mouth shut and his expression blank. Spencer I see if biting down on his bottom lip.

'I thought that they would like the experience.'

The man looks up but seems to avoid eye contact. 'If you would like to follow me my lord. The meeting place is but a short walk over towards the rocks. We have found it more satisfying when the blood doesn't seep away into the sand.'

'Indeed.' I mutter and place my fingers lightly on the hilt of the knife I am carrying. I want to ask _what fucking blood? Whose blood? When? Why? How?_ But I don't. I give Spencer a small nod and give my _Fairy Boy_ a raised eyebrow which he returns and then we walk down the beach towards an out cropping of grey rocks.

We walk in silence side by side with this bloke who didn't introduce himself to us. I wonder if I'm meant to know who the hell he is. If it's not polite for him to introduce himself? Should I have asked? Who gives a fuck? I'm more concerned right now about this blood and whose it's going to be, cos if it's my blood or the blood of Spence or Sam then there is going to be a battle on my hands. And I'm armed. I want to let out a snort of laughter but manage to keep it down. I can hear the pattering of feet behind me. Distant enough for it not to feel like they're going to jump us, but close enough for me to hear that there is still no chatter going on. There is the occasional noise from what I think is likely a child, but that's all. It's strange and though they seem to have accepted our sudden appearance it feels a very long way from friendly. Looking back at where the black line had been and the forest beyond is now just cliff face. No escape back that way just as I had thought.

'We are nearly there' The big bloke informs me.

'We have come a long way.' I say and the man stops and turns to face but still avoids eye contact.

'I am so sorry. Please forgive my ignorance. Is there anything you need?'

'I will admit that I am feeling slightly hungry.' I say. I am being so very careful. Every word uttered I consider before saying. Every sentence carefully mapped out in my head first.

'Ah then you will be pleased to know that they have cooked up a supper for you my lord. Nothing fancy I fear. We are not fancy people. I hope that it will satisfy you.'

'I am sure it will be fine.' I tell him and the look on his face changes from a sickly hero worship kind of look to one of fear.

'I will have the women beaten if it does not suit you or your….' He doesn't finish.

'Good.' I tell him and then indicate that we should keep walking. They are afraid of me. This is a good start I think. I don't know how Spencer and Sam are going to react but I just hope that they'll play along too.

-o-o-o-

Acolyte. I don't know what I'm an acolyte of but I can play along for now. My best bet is to just stay silent. I don't want my accent or word formation to alarm them or cause a problem. Also there is the matter that no one but this one person has addressed us so far and he's not talking to me. Yes, keeping silent is possibly the best thing to do. I've noted the way Sam is dressed and tattooed and has a smear of eyeliner under his eyes and without asking and lacking a mirror I'm unable to tell if I am too, but I don't have tattoos and so I am rather hoping that I am lacking eye makeup too. Sam looks decidedly uncomfortable about all of this and I'm rather glad that I wasn't the _Fairy Boy_. Being the acolyte is something I can deal with a lot better. What I'm unsure of is what sort of Fairy they think Sam is and how this is going to play out.

We are directed to something which seems to have been prepared a long time ago. There is a small circle of coloured tents. One or two man tents in different striped colours. Red and green, and blue and yellow and so on; I count fifteen of them in all perched up here on the rocks. The people who were already here have been tending a fire and there is a strong smell of cooking. My stomach rumbles in anticipation, but my mind is telling me not to eat anything that these strange people offer me. Then again it would likely be to our detriment if I didn't follow what Floyd does. I have no idea if he knows what's going on here, but by that look on his face I think he has no more idea than I do.

They silently show us where to sit. I am next to Floyd, on his right hand side, but Sam has been shown a place to sit on the other side of the fire which is blazing and crackling and letting off a small amount of smoke.

'He can sit to my left.' Floyd tells them as Sam slowly starts to follow the tall fat guy. Sam stops and turns back to look at Floyd. Still he has stayed silent. The big guy looks like he wants to say something; to correct Floyd on his error, but he doesn't. He gives Floyd a nod and walks back to where the two of us are seated. 'I like to keep an eye on him.' Floyd says and I'm sure he does. Sam is looking good and if I didn't know better I'd be eyeing him up. Still the place where he is shown to sit is further away from Floyd than I am and I can see this bothers Floyd as much as it's bothering Sam who is now sitting crossed legged and inspecting his fingernails. Two women now arrive with bowls and platters in their hands. A bowl is handed to Floyd and he nods a _Thank you_ but doesn't speak. They hand me a wedge of bread made from roughly milled flour and Sam gets nothing. Floyd looks between the two of us and the women put on worried faces.

'We assumed that the Fairy Boy wouldn't eat.' One of them says in a startled high pitched terrified voice.

'You assumed correctly.' Floyd tells them. 'I'll have some bread though if that's not too much trouble.'

'My lord, not too much trouble at all.' And the bread is snatched from my hands and taken to Floyd.

'My acolyte will need food though.' And I see Floyd's fingers move with caution over the hilt of his knife. They jump back startled and give a deep strange curtsy.

'My lord please forgive us.'

He waves a hand to dismiss them and then looks over at Sam. 'Move closer boy.' He tells him and again the shocked scared looks on the faces of these people show me that this isn't the normal thing to do. Floyd pulls a hunk off his bread and passes it to Sam. 'With much caution I am trusting you.' He tells him. I cant see the expression on Sam's face from where I am sitting but I am distracted by that when a young woman kneels before me and lightly touches my boots with her finger tips.

'I am so sorry for any mistakes we are making. We are simply following the guidelines from the Old Book.' She passes up a lump of bread for me. As rough and dull in colour as the one taken from me; it's grey and dense and not made with their best flour I am sure of it. The smell of the food Floyd is eating with his finger tips is making my stomach rumble horribly and I'm sure that this young woman can hear that. She's stayed on her knees in front of me expecting me to say something or do something to allow her to leave again but I don't know what I'm meant to do or say!

'Go woman. We need to converse and not have some silly female listening in.' Floyd snaps and she bounces back out of the way quicker than a flea. Everyone moves back. They are watching us closely though. 'Boys,' Floyd then says. 'I think it best you two stay as silent as you have been. Sam I'm not sure what they think you are but I need you to play along with it. As soon as we can we'll be out of here. Just let me do the talking. They're scared shitless of us. I don't think we are in danger. Not yet anyway.'

I nod and look down at my bit of bread and Sam lets out a miserable sounding sigh.

'Hold yourself together Fairy Boy.' Floyd hisses over at Sam who's started looking more and more miserable. 'And I might advise you not to rub at your eyes, in case you were thinking to, you'll smudge your makeup.'

Sam's head snaps around to look at Floyd. 'What makeup? What the hell have I got on my face?'

'Hush. Stay silent. Just a touch of eyeliner is all. Now go back to keeping your mouth shut. I don't want to have to explain you any more than I need.' And he goes back to eating what smells wonderfully like chilli.

I nibble at my bread and Sam just keeps his in his hand and turns it over and over just looking down at it. My hunk of bread tastes quite revolting, but I think what Floyd has in his bowl is somewhat more tasty judging by the way he's devouring it. Occasionally he dips in his bread and sucks off some juice and all his attention is on that food and this is worrying me a bit. Is it drugged in some way? What exactly is it he's eating with so much delight? I want to ask him, but he's told us to stay silent and so I do as instructed. For now I do anyway. Let him take the lead and hope he knows what he's doing.

-o-o-o-

Fairy Boy indeed. Fucking fairy boy. Wonderful. And all I get is this tiny bit of shit to eat and I'm suddenly not hungry at all. I watch dad out of the corner of my eye and then look down at my hands again. The tattoos are patterns; swirling circles and shit and they don't even start to remind me of anything. I pull off my jacket to see it they are going up my arms as well, but they don't. They seem to stop at my wrists which is good I suppose. Maybe good? I don't really know. I'm just thankful that they're not all over my bloody face as well. The sleeves of my shirt are baggy with deep cuffs with little pink buttons on them. Why pink? Why did I have to have a fucking pink shirt when everyone else is in white? The only other colour in this place is on the tents. Even the bread stuff is the colour of shit and I'm not going to eat it. I put it down in front of me and give my fingernails and good inspection. They had been ragged and broken back in the jungle but now they're long and sharp and a bit pointy. Dad might well have a knife at his belt, but I think I have weapons just as good here attached to the end of my fingers. I scratch lightly with them over the back of my hand to see if this ink crap will come off, but it doesn't. Of course it bloody well doesn't. I then let my mind go inside myself and I attempt to locate the things which have been living inside me causing trouble when they feel like it, but they seem to either be sleeping or maybe even be gone? That would be a minor miracle but it's worth thinking about. Something to feel moderately happy about maybe? As I sit here in my miserable funk someone comes along and removes the bit of bread I put down. I don't get anyone kneeling at my damned feet. They just take it, or rather _snatch_ it out of the way and throw it onto the fire. Fine. I didn't want it anyway. Fuckers. I try now to give dad a small blast of thought, but there's nothing there. Just static. Either he's closed down or there's something here preventing communication in that form. I give up when it starts to give me a headache and I'm about to rub at my eyes when I remember I have sodding eyeliner on so my fingers go to my temples and rub away there. I'd rather rub away at something else but dad gave strict instructions to keep my hands away from there and so I place my hands in my lap and give myself just a tiny feel and then put my hands on my knees. Temptation being just a bit to great right now. Masturbation is a great stress reliever, well for me it is anyway.

When I look back round to dad I see that his bowl has gone and he's rubbing at his messy fingers with a white bit of cloth. I don't know if it was given to him or if he had it in his bag. I didn't see anyone come take his bowl but then I didn't see him go a rummaging in his bag either. My mind was someplace else for a while there.

Now someone is kneeling in front of dad again and talking to him.

'It is nearly time my lord. Do you wish to freshen up first?'

He gives the man a nod and jumps to his feet. 'Yes. Freshening up would be good.' He looks over at Spencer who also stands and then at me, but something tells me that I should stay right where I am. 'Get up and come with me boy.' Dad says to me with a frown drifting quickly over his face. 'Now.' He snaps. I don't know if he's really pissed off with me or if this is all for show and I'm not going to risk it and so I stand and pick up my jacket and wipe at my arse of my trousers with my hand to remove any bits which might have got stuck there. The big guy gives dad a funny look again. I'm sure that he's not following the rules that he should be, but they don't say anything and lead the three of us towards a slightly bigger sized tent in the delightful colour of mud brown and dark green. The bloke pulls open the front flaps of the tent and dad goes in first then me and Spencer follows behind. Once inside with the flaps back down we have a quick look around. There is a bucket in the corner, probably to piss in and there's a small table with a bowl of water and that's about it. Dad sits down and puts his bag on his lap. 'Take a piss if you need. Take a shit if you need. But get it over with quickly. I don't know how much time we have and I don't like the way things are going here. We might have to make a run for it.'

But neither of us feel like emptying any parts of ourselves right now. Spencer prods the water with his finger and shrugs and then sits down in front of dad. I sit next to him and we watch as he slowly empties his bag.

'A big pebble.' Dad says. 'Now what the fuck do I need that for? Tobacco…my lighter, another knife.' This one is smaller than the eight inch or so one he has on his belt. 'A bit of bone…interesting.' He passes the bone to Spencer to look at.

'Human rib bone?' he asks.

'Looks like it.' Dad says and takes it back again. 'Looks like teeth marks in it too.' He puts it back in his bag. 'Look boys, this really doesn't look good. Sam I need you especially to take care. Spencer just stay by me and keep quiet and follow my lead. If my lead seems to be taking us into further shit just trust me. I need you to trust me. Sam put your jacket back on and show me that chain you have around your neck.'

I Pull the chain off over my head and pass it to him. There is a small medallion on it and it's this that dad is inspecting.

'I don't like this.' Dad announces and plops the thing back in my hand, 'but keep it on for now.'

We wait a further five minutes or so and then dad gets to his feet and swings the bag over his shoulder. 'Well something is going to happen. Let's go see what it is.' And he's opening up the tent flaps and we walk out into a circle of people looking at us with curiosity. They are lined up male, female and not quite touching each other. There are no children around now which is in some manners good and then again not so good. Dad glances around the circle of people until he sees the big guy and that's where his eyes settle. He scratches at his ear and nods towards him. It's all the guy needs and he's walking quickly over to us.

'Thank you for your hospitality.' Dad says. I don't know if I've ever heard him say so many words in such a polite manner and with no foul language before. 'I need to be sure that you know exactly what will happen next.'

'We are ready my lord.'

'I know. I am sure you are, but times change you see and already we have seen that some of the words from the book are maybe not followed quite as tightly and so I'd like to make sure that you have everything prepared as I would like it and that there are no more surprises or mistakes and so please if you don't mind, you will tell me of the arrangements which have been made.' His voice sounds hard and uncompromising. I hear the man take a deep breath and he takes a step back.

'It is not customary to do so my lord, but if that is your wish.' He's looking nervous. Very nervous.

'It is my wish. Now get on with it. You are wasting my time.'

'The sacrifice is ready. She has been cleansed according to the traditional ways. I will escort you to the cleaving stone where you will deflower her and then give her blood to the gods. We will then balance the act by taking the Fairy Boy and spilling his blood over that of our cleansed one. You will devour the parts necessary and will leave. Your acolyte will stay with us until the twentieth day after which we shall bleed him and use his blood on the crops to bring us luck for the following seasons.'

'Ah.' Dad says. 'I think we need to make some amendments to the plan because you see that is not going to work well for me. So if we could have a meeting about this first?'

There is silence. Total and absolute. And yeah, amendments would be good, cos I'm not going to be fucked then killed because a load of loons think it will be good for their fucking crops! I see that Spencer too is probably thinking the same thing.

'But that is the way it is always done my lord. I don't see how there can be a change.'

'A little less of the blood.' Dad says. 'A little more of me telling you that it's not going to happen like that. Does that make sense to you?'

'We need the blood of the cleansed one. We need the blood of the Fairy Boy! Why else would you bring them with you? Why else would we have been waiting so long for your arrival?'

'No clue mate, but you're not going to slaughter my buddies here. You understand me? You want me to kill your sacrifice then sure I'll go for that part of the plan, but the bit where you want my boys is just not going happen. We arrive as three and we leave as three. I'm sure that must be written down somewhere and how long have you been waiting for us anyway?'

The big guy is looking flustered but he's not over with arguing yet. 'This is the only way! It has to been done like this or the gods will pour acid on us and deform our offspring. The gods will curse us again if we don't do this. We have been waiting for you for nine generations my lord.'

'Nine? Out here on the beach for nine generations? No wonder you don't know what you're meant to be doing anymore. The ways have changed. It's not going to happen. If you don't like what I say then move away and let us go. If you are happy for the blood to be spilt in a more symbolic manner then we can carry on. You are not going to have my boys.'

Again silence.

'I will have to talk to the other elders about this. I have no authority to change things.'

Dad steps forwards towards the man and leans in to talk directly into his ear. 'Then get the authority to change things, because you're not and I'm not going to carry on with this stupidity until you have.' And he steps back again.

'You will still sacrifice the cleansed one?'

'I said I would. Go sort things out. Quickly. You are not the only people I have to see. I need to travel onwards as soon as I can. Go, get out of here. Leave me and my boys in peace damn you!' And he's shouting at them and some of the women are crying and some of the men are white faced and in shock and some are red faced and angry. Dad turns his back on them and looks at me and Spencer. 'And when I say run…you fucking run…away from the damned beach…get up over those rocks and make like the hounds of hell are snapping at your butts, cos I think they actually are.'

'You know what's going on?' Spencer talks in hushed tones with wide eyes.

'Yes, I know what's going on and we might be able to compromise and we might have to run, but I'm not going to let them hurt either of you. I erm, well I might have to kill someone. But remember that this stuff is not real as we see it. Remember that. This is just part of the test as the land mine was and the thing which bit Spencer. It's going to be fine as long as we keep our heads. I mean that literally Sam.' Now he's looking at Spencer. 'I have no intention of leaving you here with them. No worries. OK boys? All set? Follow my lead. Keep quite. Don't run unless I'm shouting at you to run and keep off the beach and go up the rocks. Sam get rid of the fucking necklace. Keep it in a pocket or something.' Now he turns around to face the people. 'Stand behind me.' He mutters.

-o-o-o-

The birds are circling again and crying out at us. The sea seems to have lost its sound but I can still smell that strong salty smell. Floyd looks unhappy about all of this. Things seem to have gone from pretty bad to even worse in hardly any time at all and all we can do now is wait and hope that the compromise of no killing is accepted. How long we stand and wait I don't know. It's hard to tell and the sun is unfamiliar and too big there in the sky. It's not possible to use it as a guide to how long time has passed, but it's time enough for Floyd to quickly turn to me. I see how his usual pale skin seems almost transparent. There is sweat running down the side of his face and his breaths are shallow. One of his hands rests on his stomach. 'I've been poisoned.' His voice is trembling slightly. 'We will have to run and I may fall back behind you, but just keep going.'

'The food?'

He shrugs. 'Does it matter how? Just keep running. Don't mind what happens to me.'

'I cant leave you.' My own voice seems to have a slight panicked tone to it.

'No, you will. If it comes to it you will leave me. Understand this, I've not gone through all this shit to lose you now. Do you both understand? When I give the signal you will go.'

'Dad?'

'No! Sam you will leave with Spencer. No arguments on this. I'll be OK.' But I can see he is far from OK. He's swaying slightly and he seems to be having trouble keeping his eyes open. I want to go to him and hold him. I want to tell him I will never leave him. I want to smell that wonderful smell he always has drifting from him. I want, no _need_ to be at his side to protect him from whatever is going to happen because I'm sure he'll be unable to protect himself. I don't want this to be the end. This cannot be the end…not here on some strange rock in some strange world with a sun which I cant tell the time from. It's not meant to end like this. But I know I cant go to him. He needs to look strong to these people and not have his acolyte holding him up and tasting his skin between his lips…however much that acolyte may want to be doing that. 'It's OK Babes. It's not the end. I can at least promise you that.' And a bead of sweat runs down to his chin and drips off landing on the toe of his boots.

'We are here.' A voice suddenly booms and Floyd slowly turns around.

* * *


	22. Sacrifice

Part twenty-two: Sacrifice.

* * *

The crowd which had formerly been looking at us with a mix of fear and curiosity now just seems to have a look of anger and maybe, just maybe a touch of murderous violence about them. I don't know what they put in my food and I'm trying to absorb whatever it was and get it out of my system, but they obviously knew what they were doing. I blink sweat out of my eyes and look at the old man standing in front of me. He like all the others is in black trousers and jacket with a white shirt.

'Aye, seems you're here.' I say to him. 'We need to sit and talk about this.' I continue, but he doesn't have the sort of face that looks like it wants to sit and have a friendly chat.

'Take them.' He gestures towards Spence and Sam and I give them a quick nod. Spencer is gone before they can get to him. Running his long legs over the rocks and away. They chase him, but he's got a bit of a head start. I wipe at the sweat on my brow and look towards where I can hear Sam screaming.

'You need to let him go. It will be to your detriment if he is harmed.'

The old man moves in right up close to me. So close that I can smell his rotting breath. 'And how are you going to stop us? What exactly do you think you're going to do?' I can hear shouts of _Get back here acolyte!_ Which gives me a tiny amount of pleasure. He's doing exactly what I told him to do. Sam though is screaming for help.

'Get off me you sons of bitches. Stop doing that! Fuck off you bastards! NO! Fuck no! Please…' and then I stop listening. I don't want to hear what he is shouting. I don't want to have to imagine what they are doing to him. A young girl is now thrust in front of me.

'You'll take her and you'll fuck her and then you will give us her blood.' I am told and I look at this thing standing in front of me in a white loose fitting gown and with her blond hair tied back and her big blue eyes and she looks horribly like that whore JJ and the very idea of screwing her is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

'You are of course jesting with me.' I push her out of the way. 'What are you doing to him?' I look in the direction that Sam's screams and shouts are still coming from.

'He'll be bled. It's no matter to us how it happens as long as it does. Take the cleansed one and do your duty.' Again she's pushed in front of me.

'You have mistaken me for someone who gives a shit what you think or say. Let my boy go. Call off your men who are after my acolyte and we will talk about this mistake.'

My legs feel like they're not going to hold me up for much longer. My words are not holding the power or strength which they should do. The sweat is pouring off me and the shouts and screams are fading. 'I need to sit.' I say and do just that. I sit back down onto the rocks with a jarring thump that I manage to bite my tongue at the same time.

'You failed the test. You are not who you say you are. The rules no longer apply.' The old man is crouched down in front of me. 'Who are you?'

-o-o-o-

I don't want to leave them behind. I can hear Sam's screams echoing through this rocky outcropping I am scrabbling over. I can hear them behind me. Too close behind me. They know this area and I have no idea. It's getting dark and my hand and foot holds are not very clear or easy to find. The people behind me are not shouting now. At first they called to me to stop and come back but they are saving their energy now to keep up with me. This is not an activity I am known for being particularly good at, but neither am I totally unable to cope. I've don't worse. It's not as though I'm attempting to climb shear cliff face. Not yet anyway. I thought I heard Floyd shouting, but I'm not sure. Sam's screams are covering most other sounds now. In just hope that what ever it is they are doing to him isn't going to cause a death. Not his and not anyone else's and now that the screams are fading and becoming less distinct and not as powerful I am thinking that the boy is dying down there as I run away.

It's not cowardice. I could turn and try to fight them off, but I was told to run. I was told to get out of here and escape. But did Floyd really think that I would. It feels as though barbed wire has been lashed around my lungs as I scrabble a bit further on. There is a sound of people's puffing and panting and strong pursuit behind me. They're not going to give up and I don't know how long I can keep going for. I reach up and find a dip in the rock and haul myself up and across a bit further. I have ripped the knees of my pants and my jacket is getting in the way, but I want to keep it on. I need that. I have to keep it, but I'm not really sure why. I find somewhere for my foot and push upwards and pull forward and reach out and something warm takes me by the wrist.

'I've got him!' Someone calls. And he does have a tight grip and so I pull down really not expecting much at all to happen except maybe for the grip to tighten, but for once luck goes in my direction and as I push myself hard against the rocks the person who did have a hold of me has lost his balance and is screaming past me and slamming into at least some of the people below me. This is good. I reach up again half expecting another hand, but there's nothing this time except rock. Again I haul myself upwards and over and I hear the fabric of my jacket ripping and my knees tearing on the rough surface. Not that it really matters anymore as it's just as I find somewhere for my foot that a rock slams down on my head and the world spins backwards. I stay awake just long enough to feel hands pulling at me and voices calling out…but what they're saying I don't know…

-o-o-o-

They drag me by my feet and I scream at them. They said they wanted my blood and I have no doubt that my blood is what they are going to get. Dad doesn't look like he's going to be defending me. Not through his own fault this time though. I don't think he can hardly see or speak now let alone go into battle against these nut jobs. Hands are pulling at me and removing my jacket. My hat is long gone by now. I'm lashing out and kicking and putting my fingernails into use but I don't seem to be slowing them down at all. Something is tied around my feet and suddenly I'm upside down hanging from something; hanging over a nasty blood stained rock. My fingers can just about touch it, if I wanted to do that, which I don't really. They swing me around and some bloke is looking at me.

'You're blood will refresh.' He tells me.

'Fuck you you fucker!' I tell him.

'Your body will feed us.'

'Oh shut up you stupid bastard and let me down from here.'

'Your life is ours. Your body is ours.'

'My body is not yours! You've misunderstood. I'm not a bloody Fairy Boy! What ever that might be! You've been fooled by the demons. They've tricked you. If you kill me; if you bleed me out here it would all be for nothing! You're bleeding the wrong person.'

'You're blood will refresh.' I'm told again.

'You told me that already. You said that. And I'm telling you no that you're wrong.'

'It says so in the prophesies. This story is told. We have been waiting.'

'No! not for me.'

'Lower him down. I need to take him first.' The man says. 'I need to be sure he is the right one.'

Panic? Maybe. Screaming tantrum? It could be classed as that. Anyone coming to help me? You gotta be kidding. I have no idea where dad is but I am now face down on this damned rock and they're pulling my trousers down past my hips and then past my knees. I do some more screaming and lashing out at people, but they're keeping their distance now and my feet are tied and I can't get away from them. My screams intensify as I feel hard fingers moving over my butt. I feel them exploring and delving and I wriggle and squirm and try to get away but there's nothing I can do. It suddenly stops. My clothing is put back and they start to pull me back upside down. This time I am higher though. A face appears in front of mine.

'You're not a virgin. You are who we thought you were. You are a corruption and a perversion. You are one of the mutated freaks. It's your blood we need.'

I don't really have an answer to that except out right denial, but I don't think that's going to wash too well. 'I'm not a fucking freak! I'm just me! My blood won't do your crops good! I curse them. I'll rot them before they even show a tiny bit of green above the soil! I'll deform and mutate your off spring and that of your live stock. I'll poison the sea! You'll all die!'

I shut up suddenly when a big wooden bucket is placed under me. Someone pulls my head back and a knife is put at my throat.

'Your threats don't bother us Fairy Boy. You are nothing. You are less than nothing. Bleed him.'

I hear it. I can hear my blood pouring out of my neck and I can feel them letting go of my hair and I can see my blood pouring down and splashing into the bucket. And where is dad? Sleeping off his dinner I expect.

-o-o-o-

I'm on my back somewhere. I can hear breathing near by and I know it's Spencer. They got him. I thought that they would, but I was rather hoping that they wouldn't. I turn over and look at him. There's a bandage roughly tied around his head but he's awake and he's staring at me with very wide eyes.

'They killed Sam.' He whispers. 'They slit his throat. They showed me. They showed me what they did to him.'

I blink at him. 'Is his head in tact? Did they remove his heart or liver?'

'He's not been mutilated further than having his throat slit. He's hanging by his feet. They showed me. They told me I am next.'

I shake my head at him. 'Not you. They don't want you.' I'm lying though. 'Is your head alright?'

'It's still on my shoulders if that's what you mean.'

'Sam will be OK.' I mutter and reach out for Spencer. 'I didn't want it to go this far. You know I didn't want you two to get hurt. You know that don't you?' And I'm being honest. I really didn't want this to happen. I don't want to have to lug a corpse through the next bit of this journey. I wanted us to walk out of here, not crawling and rotting.

'Sam is dead. He is not going to be OK Floyd.'

'Sam will be OK.' I repeat and snag a hold of Spencer's fingers with mine. 'Trust me. I told you to trust me.'

'And Sam? Can he trust you too?' He's not holding back. His fingers are not curling around mine the way I want them to.

'I couldn't help Sam. They drugged me Spence. There was nothing I could do to help him. He _will_ be alright though. As long as they don't gut him or take his head I can help him.'

'They are doing other things to him Floyd.'

'What do you want me to do? I can't stand. I can hardly see! What exactly is it you want me to do for him Spence? You want me to sacrifice myself for him? For you? Is that what you want?'

Now his fingers curl around mine. 'Not for me no. For Sam.'

'You want me to die for Sam? Have you forgotten what he did? Have you forgotten what he is? Has that all gone from your stupid head?'

'Of course not. I know. I just think that it's what they want. I think it is our way out. For all of us you know? The way onto the next bit? Your arm is fine now. My itching has gone. Sam seemed fine. The next time we go to someplace new we will be good again.'

'You are fucking insane! You said they slit his throat? How is me dying now going to help him? And we can't go someplace else if you're still here.' I give him a curious look. 'What's your plan Spencer?'

'I just feel that is the way out. We all have to…we need to…'

'You're telling me that the way out is to all die? You got a bigger knock on your head than you thought you did if you really think that's the answer.'

I move my hand away from him and turn so that my back is to his. I don't cry over Sam. Lost is lost. Nothing I can do about it. The dust gets in my eyes though. That's why my eyes are watering. Spencer is about ready to give himself over to them. Sam is gone and I feel so ill I can't hardly move let alone think in a straight line. I just need to try to sleep it off for a while longer. 'Spencer, I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. Don't leave this damned tent.'

'Sleep.' Is all I hear back. If he said more I didn't hear it.

-o-o-o-

I can see in my mind's eye the form of Sam swinging gently back and forth from that make shift rig they put up. I can smell his blood. I can see that shocked dead look in his eyes. I can see that blood on his face where it pumped out of him.

There is no way I can stay here I have to at least retrieve the body. If it was just the blood they needed then they have what they want. I will go and get the rest. I pull Floyd's bag towards me and pull out the small knife he has in there and I slide it carefully in the side of my boot where they seems to be a flap of double leather just for this purpose. I wonder if I should awaken Floyd and tell him where I am going, you know in case he wakes and I'm not here, but I don't. I don't bother. I just slide silently out of the tent and walk, keeping as much as I can to shadows and head for where I can see the dark outline of Sam. The fire is still alight and it's sending strange flickering moving shadows everywhere, making me jump and see things which don't exist. There is someone with Sam. I don't see her until I am almost there and it's not worth turning back now, she's looking right at me with those big blue eyes. The cleansed one…I couldn't forget that face in a hurry. I nod a 'hello' at her and sit at her side.

'I'm sorry about the Fairy Boy. Really I am.' She says and her eyes go to look at that ghastly expression on Sam's face.

'Can I ask you something?'

'Whatever would you want to ask me something for? I know nothing of the heavens and stars.'

'I wanted to know why you call Sam the Fairy Boy.' Heavens and stars?

'Oh! Well there is a double meaning behind it. I'm shocked that you don't know. You surely should know.'

'Maybe, but I want to hear you say it.' I try to smile at her even though it's making me feel ill with Sam staring at me like he is. 'A different interpretation of it.' I explain.

'Oh well then, he likes it up the arse. We call such abominations Fairy Boys…this according to the great book is because he is made by the heavens and the stars. He's made to please the men with the crooked seed which only makes the two headed and outside in babies.' She smiles. 'If he was pure and a virgin he would have been able to fly and escape.' She goes on to explain.

'And the other? The one you call lord?'

'A prophet. He is here to cleanse the seeds and the wombs. He will have to have intercourse with all the young girls and clean them of their sins.'

I wrap my arms around my knees. 'I think that might be a problem.' And I look from her and up to Sam. 'I need to take him back with me. I can't leave him here.' I stand now. 'It's against the teachings' And now I lie. 'You know to leave him here. I have to return him to my lord.'

'I don't remember reading that.' She stands with me. 'I would think I'd remember it.'

'Amendments part two section three of the recovery and fortitude.' I say as I pull the knife out of my boot.

'I beg your pardon? The what?'

'Find me a copy of the book you've been learning from. I will fix it for you. Please?'

And she smiles at me. 'I will bring it to your tent. I shouldn't be here if you're going to take him down though.' And she turns and walks away. They have Sam's blood. They're not going to go to all that trouble if they're not going to take hers too. I wonder if I'm ever going to see her again. The ground around Sam is slippery with spilt blood. It makes my stomach heave as my feet slide on the mess but I wrap an arm around his limp form and hold him close. 'It's OK Sam. I've got you.' I tell him, though I know he can't hear me. I cut at the ropes around his ankles and feel the weight suddenly in my arms. I crouch down with him and slide the knife back into my boot and then adjust how I am holding Sam and then stand and carry him back to the tent. I don't try to hide what I am doing this time. There seems to be no point. I'm sure they know. I'm sure they watched the whole thing from their own dark corners and out of the bottom of their tent flaps. I'm not going to be intimidated by them now. No one tries to stop me though. They've likely got all they wanted from him. I had just a small hope that he'd still be there inside somewhere. Somewhere secret where Sam could crawl to and be safe even having had this done to him, but it was a hope that now seems to be stupid. How could someone survive this? I duck slightly as I enter the tent and then lay Sam on his side next to Floyd.

'I got him.' I say. 'I brought him back.'

'Good.' Is all he says though. I wanted more, but I'm not sure what. Some sort of apology maybe. But I don't know what the apology would be for. Really it's not Floyd's fault that this happened. He did do his best. Didn't he? The matter that we'd not even be here if Floyd hadn't dragged us here doesn't seem important now. This is something the three of us are in and the three of us have to get out again.

'What should I do?' I ask.

'I don't know.' He sighs and turns to be faced with Sam's bloody face and he reaches out and touches it. 'I'm not sure Spence. I'm just hoping that your option isn't the one we need to follow cos I'm really not sure it's going to work. I didn't want this to happen you know.'

I move close to Sam. I feel a need to protect him even if it does seem to be too late. 'I know you didn't. Look I've asked for a copy of the book they are going by. I'll try to read it and see if there is a way out.'

'Smart idea Spence.' His fingers are moving over Sam's mouth. 'He's a pretty boy. They didn't have to do this to him.'

'He looks like you did at that age.' I tell him.

'No wonder you couldn't resist me then.' And a small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. 'You know I've considered leaving.' He looks at me now. 'Not now, but before this all happened. I considered moving and leaving you with him. He's more what you want.'

He's slipped into one of his self pitying moods. 'Sure, back when I was a kid he'd have been what I wanted. Actually he _was_ what I wanted. But we grow and move on.'

'I let you down.' And he turns his back to me again. No point in trying to talk him out of it. My head hurts too much to cope with his mood right now. 'You didn't. You tried. Sam knows.'

But he remains silent.

There is a small cough at the door and a slim hand pushes a battered up looking book under the tent flap. 'The book' A whispered voice. 'Keep it safe. I will need it back again.'

I lean forward and gently touch the hand. 'Thank you.' I say and pull the book towards me. It's not huge and when I flip it open the print is primitive and large. It's not going to take too long to read this.

_The Book of The One._

_The blood will be spilt on the sacred stone.._

_The crops will be fertile and strong._

_The mutants will cease and all will be fair._

That's all it says on the first page. Not much to go by. I look down the centre of the book and can see where pages have been removed. My heart seems to skip with excitement. 'Floyd, I might have something.'

'Well if it's going to make me itch keep it to yourself.'

'I really think that you should be holding onto Sam or something, but yes, there are pages missing from the book.'

'Right.'

And that's all he says. He doesn't move.

'Floyd, I can't do this all alone. I need some help.'

'You're making a good job of doing it all alone so far. Carry on. Don't let my discomfort and pain bother you.'

I don't bother answering him and I go back to the book and turn the page.

_The cleansed one will be taken and spill her blood and the blood of the Fairy Boy will cover that. This is the word of The One._

That's all it says, but there is a bit of the page missing. The bottom quarter is ripped away. I turn over the page and keep reading. This isn't going to take long.

_The One will bring the Acolyte and will leave him. The Acolyte will place his bones on the crops and stop the rot._

Great.

Bones on the crops? That's rather misleading. What bones? It doesn't say they have to be mine and there is no mention of blood. This is a start. I need to figure out a way for Sam _not_ to be the Fairy Boy. If Floyd can help him. If he can find a way to help him maybe we have a way out.

'Floyd I really could do with your input here. I know the way this is worded is so vague, but your thoughts on it would be good.'

'Give me a bit then. Let me mull over it. I need to hold Sam.' And he turns over and wiggles closer to Sam and wraps his arms tightly around him. 'Go for it. Fire away. What does that damned book say about Sam? Let's start there.'

'_The cleansed one will be taken somewhere and spill her blood and the blood of the Fairy Boy will cover that. This is the word of The One.' _I read to him and he lets out a sigh.

'Well that's obvious. The cleansed one will be fucked and cos she's a virgin she'll bleed. Then they screw this fairy boy and he bleeds too. Great. That bit's sorted.'

I look down at the pages and frown. 'In that case they're not going to be able to follow the words as they've already killed Sam. They won't get his blood from ermm….'

Floyd pushes up on one elbow. 'They've fucked up.' And he grins at me. 'They misunderstood the words. That's going to be easy to get them with.' He lays back down again. Keep reading it. Let me know if anything else can be twisted to our benefit.'

'_The One will cleanse and heal the wombs of the girls.'_

'No, no, I won't. You can forget that.' Floyd mumbles into Sam's sodden neck.

'But it doesn't mention intercourse. You can clean something with water and soap.'

'I still don't fancy that as a job.'

'Good, now look, you can do like a baptism. Wash the faces with blessed water.'

'What blessed water?'

'Well you can pretend! Make up some fancy words. Tip it over their heads. Done!'

'Good. Carry on. What else does it say?'

'There's mention of a sacred stone. I suppose that's around here.'

'Nope…no, they got it wrong again. Look in my bag.'

'Are we going to have to tell them that for generations they have been waiting for someone to come and pour water on the heads of the girls and everything they believed in was wrong?'

'Hhhmmm…not too sure how they're going to take it, but give me time with Sam here and maybe I can prove to them that they were wrong. Then again, I don't want them buggering him 'til he bleeds. They're just going to have to wait for another damned Fairy Boy.'

I can hear strange noises coming from Floyd and I have a nasty idea that he's licking Sam clean. I'm not going to suggest he uses the water.

'Mind if I have a smoke?' I say as I pull the tobacco out of his bag.

'Nope. You go for it. Sit outside. I want them to see that we are relaxed and happy about this situation. Leave the book. Rather they didn't see that we've been doing some cunning plotting and planning here. You've done good Spence. I think you've maybe saved our sorry hides. Now I need to try to sort Sam out, but really Babes I think it's too late.'

I watch them for a while. It makes me feel sick what Floyd is doing, but it's not my place to question it. If that's what helps me, then maybe it will help Sam, though I have a feeling that the only person it's helping is Floyd. The smoke is thick and it's almost like smoking something wrapped in tar, but there is some inner need that makes me feel I have to do this. Maybe I'm smoking for Sam. Maybe for Floyd. Maybe just for me. I am just crushing the butt under my heel when a shadow moves over me.

'Where is he?' The voice says in a not very friendly manner. I look up and see the big guy we first spoke to. All signs of reverence have left his eyes.

'He's busy.' I snap back but I don't get to my feet just yet.

'We need to talk to him.'

'I said he's busy.' And now I stand. 'Not even I am permitted to disturb him. If you want to talk to someone you'll have to talk to me.'

The guy nods and gives a snort of distaste. 'As you will. This way.' And he turns and walks away. I follow behind him feeling very exposed and aware of the people who have left their hiding places to watch what happens next. Good or bad, I have no clue. I just hope I can keep my cool and keep them in place. I am taken to a place just beyond where we first sat and ate. The fire is slowly burning down but there are oil lamps giving off a sickly glow now. I am taken to an off white tent and told to wait.

'Just stand there. I'll be back. Don't think of running off again. You know we'll get ya again.'

'I have no intention of running off. Be quick. I need to get back.'

He grunts and moves into the tent. I can feel the eyes watching me intensely. They are waiting for me to make a break for it, but I just brush down my ripped clothing and stand hatless waiting. Finally an elderly man exits the tent and stands in front of me. He's bent over and ancient, but still manages to be around my height.

'We want and explanation of your actions. I would rather have spoken to The One, but you say he is busy? Can I ask what matter would be more urgent than talking with me?'

I nod at him. 'The matter of recovering your mistake.' I say as calmly as I can. I try my best not to stutter and I try to speak slowly so as not to trip over my own words.

'I've made no mistake other than believing you.' He snarls back at me.

'That was possibly a mistake, but I feel that the way you have interpreted the book is a slightly more unforgivable error on your part.'

He takes a step closer to me. 'An error with interpretation? I think not young man.'

I take a risk now and I raise my voice at him. 'You have been waiting for nine generations for this time and now we are here I am telling you that you are wrong! I don't expect you to argue with me over this matter. You have already made a grave mistake by taking the life of one of us. Nowhere in the book does it tell you to do this! Nowhere! I beg you now to pass me your copy of the book and show me the place where it says that the cleansed one must be sacrificed! I am telling you to show me where! And when you cannot you'll be on your knees in front of me begging for forgiveness.' I now take a step closer to him to show that my words match my physiology. I hold my head up. I keep my shoulders back. I make my demand of him true to see and not just to hear. He takes a step back and puts out a hand.

'My book!' he calls and I hope to the gods that there is actually nothing there which I can't crawl out of.

He opens the book and reads to me the bit about spilling the blood of the cleansed one. The copy of the book he's holding is identical to the one I'd been looking at so I just hope above all hope that it has the same damned pages missing!

'Spilling of the blood means the blood which shows when a virgin is taken. That is all that means. The Fairy Boy should also have been taken. A virgin…one who will bleed, but I think you've messed up, whoever you are, you killed him.'

'No matter! We have his blood!'

'It's not how it is meant to be done. You are twisting the words. The boy was meant to be sodomized until he bled, but that's not going to happen now is it? At first light the three of us are leaving. You need to go and look at your book and re think what those words mean. They are not asking you to kill your virgins for the love of the gods! They are telling you merely how to tell if she has bedded her lover!'

'You are wrong!' The old man screams. 'And you cannot leave Acolyte! We need you for the crops. You have to die and rot and leave only your bones and that will take the rot and disease from the crops.'

'Again you are reading the words and adding to them. I will visit your crops and I will give you what you need to keep away the rot and disease. I will give you a token to keep safe and use, but I can assure you that I'm not going to allow you to slaughter us. Now that we have sorted that, I will go back to my lord and the boy and you will disturb us no more this evening. In the morning you will bring us bread and water and that is all. If I suspect that you have poisoned the food again I will destroy your crops. We have an understanding?'

I don't wait for an answer. I turn my back on them and walk back to the tent. I am slightly tingling all over with the rush that performance gave me. I just hope it was enough to save our skins for now. When I arrive back at the tent I hesitate slightly. I don't want to disturb the two of them, but then again….

I pull back the tent flaps and with a sigh return to Floyd and Sam.

* * *


	23. Another Exit

Part twenty-three: Another Exit.

* * *

I know usually my life revolves around what could be described as a wonderful fuck-fest, but I'm really not much in the mood for that right now. My head feels as though my brain is twice the size it should be and I have a nasty case of the shakes which just don't seem to want to go away. I'm clinging hold of Sam thinking maybe if I could find it within myself to "comfort" him I might get a bit of life back into him again, but I'm not going to. Maybe he'll recover from having his throat slit and being drained and maybe he wont. I really don't think that buggering him is going to help much. He needs more than that. Yes, he needs more than even I can give him. He's cold and the blood is drying and that nasty cut on his neck is showing no signs of healing. I run my hands over his face and then push him away from me.

'Make sure they don't decide to cremate him.' I say to no one in particular but as it's only Spence here with me now I suppose it's him I'm talking to. The only hope Sam has now is that we keep him as whole as we can until we get to the next crossing. This one fixed my arm and fixed Sam's eye. Maybe it'll fix him being dead too. The problem is that he's really part of me and his sudden departing has made me feel sort of under the weather, you might say. I feel like shit. There is a way to recover faster, but that will involve eating bits of Sam and that really will fuck things up. No chance of a recovery if I've eaten bits of him. This makes me think of the blood they took and I glance over at Spencer who is flicking through the pages of that book thing again. 'And find out what they did with his blood.' He looks up at me.

'Why?'

'Cos I could maybe use it. If they've not already messed around with it. Go find out will you Babes?'

I see he's not moving. Not doing what I want him to do. He's just sitting there with the book open on his lap and his finger unmoving on the page. 'I don't see how that can help.' He's not looking at me. He's looking into the space behind me.

'Well some things are just beyond your understanding are they not? Just go see if you can persuade them to give it back.'

He sighs and closes the book and tucks inside his jacket. 'I need to return this anyway. Floyd…'

'Oh no questions now. I'm not in the mood. Just go and do it and find out how long we have to stay here for. Maybe they'll back off and we can move on.'

'Right. You just lay there and do nothing. Leave it up to me.' He snaps at me and then huffs out another sigh and leaves the tent.

I move back towards Sam and touch his lips with my thumb. 'I'm going to fix you boy. Don't worry. Stay around. Don't let the others think they've won this round cos it's far from over yet, and whatever you do…' I move my mouth now so it's touching his cold blue lips. 'Don't go back. You know what I mean. If you have to wait in the pit for a while then do that, but for fuck's sake don't give up and go back. I need you here. I need you better. I'm…well Spence more likely, is going to sort things out.' I lie there and look at his face and then at the slit in that pale neck. I want to sleep. I feel that a good spot of hibernation is what is needed here. I'll purge my self of this crap they gave me and at least be able to stand up. Once that's possible then everything else will be. I can't let them see me like this though. I just have to hope that Spencer can keep up a good show and not get himself lynched or even sliced open like Sam here managed. Fairy Boy. My damned Fairy Boy. I lift up one of his hands and inspect the tattoos but they don't seem to have any significance. Well at least not one I can figure out yet. It will come to me once I can think again but I'm just a tad concerned that I'll not be able to think all the time Sam's fucked up. Hurry back Spence. I don't like you being out there with no back up.

-o-o-o-

They watch me as I stride with a false confidence over to where I spoke to the old guy. I feel that this is the place I am most likely to get answers. They are watching me in the moon light and the dull light from the oil lamps but they're not saying anything. When I get to the place I stood before I look around to see if I can see the girl they were going to sacrifice. I can't see her and my hand goes quickly to check that I still have the book with me. It would be easier maybe if she came back to the tent and I handed it back there.

'Acolyte.' I am being spoken to by someone on his hands and knees in front of me. 'Is there something I can do for you? Is there something you need?' A good question and one I have an answer to.

'Get up. I don't want you grovelling at my feet all the time. You give me neck ache.' He slowly gets to his feet but again like the big guy we spoke to earlier there is no eye contact. Maybe this is good? Perhaps there is fear there still. 'I need what you took from…The Fairy Boy.' I tell him. He swallows and licks his lips and nods to me.

'I am afraid that personally I am unable to give you what you request. I will get an elder for you to talk to.' He takes a step back. 'I will be as fast as I can. Do you want anything while you wait?'

'I need nothing from you. Go and get me someone worth talking to and stop wasting my time. I'm tired of your babble.' I hope I'm not going too far. I hope that I'm not over stepping the boundaries here. It's too late to worry now though, he has turned his back and is running to where the old guy seems to be staying. I'm so tired. I tired of everything. Of this situation, of Floyd and Sam and of this place. I want to go home! I want to be sitting in my over stuffed leather chair with a hot coffee in my hands and a jar of candy at my side and a good book on my lap. I want Floyd to be knocking on my door asking me if I want to go out. I want to be able to tell him that I have work in the morning _A nasty case has come up._ I want him to nod and accept my words but come in and join me. I want to fall asleep listening to his voice reading to me. I want to awaken with his arms around me! Why is that so much to ask?! Why does everything have to be so complicated when it comes to Floyd? Why cant Sam go back to the clan and get out of my life?!

'You needed something?' The quavering old voice of the man I spoke to before.

'I need what you took from Sam.'

He looks puzzled. 'Who?'

I sigh and start again. 'You know full well what I am talking about. I need what you took from the Fairy Boy. Sam. His name is Sam.' I snap at him.

'I see. I didn't realise that he had a name.' He looks like he doesn't believe me. Like he has something ticking around in his mind which is going to cause me a problem.

'Well you don't know everything do you. That you have made perfectly clear. Get what I need and bring it to me. And I hope you've not spoiled it.'

'I see. And may I ask why The One is sending his Acolyte to do his work? When are we going to see him again? I have many questions.'

I reach out a finger and push it against his chest. 'Your place is not to ask how we conduct our business. I am here doing this because that is what I am doing. You need not know why. Now go and get what I need and do it quickly. I don't want to have to explain to The One why I have been so long. I don't want to have to explain that you, And you have a name? I don't want to explain why _you_ have taken so long.'

'My name is of no interest to you.' And his back is to me and he's walking away.

I'm not sure how well that went. I may have made a mistake telling them Sam's name, but I said it without thinking and it's done now and all I can do is wait.

'So Acolyte do you too have a given name?' It's the young girl I nod towards her.

'Here is not the place girl.' I tell her. 'The tent later.' And I try to give her a smile and send her a message without talking to tell her that she can come and collect her book, but she just shrugs.

'I'm Nilda. My mother gave me that name, but this lot here don't call me that. Are you going to sacrifice me Acolyte?'

'Here is not the place or the time Nilda. Go back to your mother.' She looks at me with puzzled blue eyes.

'But I have to stay here. It's the way it is.'

I don't want this distraction right now. 'Please Nilda. Return to wherever it is you came from and stay there. Come collect that which you need from the tent when I am there. I don't wish to converse with you now.'

'Will you save me from the blood spilling?'

I do it without thinking. I lift my hand and slap her hard across the face. She lets out a startled cry and her hand flies to the side of her face. I can see immediate tears forming in her eyes and I want to say I'm sorry, but really I'm not. If that is what was needed to get her out of the way, then that is what was needed.

'Leave me be!' I snarl at her. 'Or I will see that your purity is no longer in tact. Go!'

And she is backing off away from me with silver threads of tears running down her face and this is so out of character for me, to raise my hand to another person is virtually unheard of and to slap a child, a scared child, is just not something I would do, yet I did. As for threatening to do something to her purity! Well I really don't know where that came from.

'Here Acolyte.' That old voice again. Did he see what I just did? Did he hear the words I said? I have no idea. I don't know how long he's been standing there for. He's is holding out a large container made of silvery coloured metal. He lifts off the lid and shows me the red liquid inside and gives me a smile. 'It's what you wanted?' He asks me.

'It looks like it's what I requested. As to whether it is what I want is something The One will be able to tell me. I really hope for your sake and for the sakes of your family that this is what I asked you to get for me.' I see the quick worried look travel across his face and then settle into one of stony defiance.

''Tis what you requested Acolyte.' And he pushes the container into my hands.

'I will be back if it's not.' I tell him and without further ado I turn and walk away from him.

I have a nasty feeling that this isn't Sam's blood. I really don't think they'd hand over something they went to particular trouble to get hold of just to hand it back because I told them to. I slip back into the tent and look at Floyd curled up around himself. He's covered Sam's face with the boy's jacket and that is horribly final for me.

'You need to hibernate.' I tell him. 'How long are you going to need?'

He sits up and shakes his head. 'I don't have time for that. I'm just hoping Sam knows what to do. You have his blood?'

I pass over the container. 'It's blood yes, but I'm not going to bet any amount of money that it's Sam's. They handed it over too easily.'

Floyd nods and pulls off the lid and inhales. 'Well you were right. This is old man's blood not that of a young boy. It will have to do for now. It's not going to help Sam, but it'll help me somewhat.'

I sigh and sit down trying not to look at the dead lump lying on the floor. 'What next? What do we do? Is there a way out of this place?'

'There's always a way out Spence. We just have to work out what it is.' He starts to drink back the blood from the container and I turn my face so I don't have to watch it. It makes my stomach heave with disgust, but if it's going to help Floyd and Sam and myself then I'm not going to tell him to stop. The same way I don't tell him to stop what he does to me.

'It's been so long Floyd. So long and I don't think I've ever been this tired and confused before. I just want to go home. I want things back the way they should be. I've had enough.'

He wipes blood from around his mouth and off his chin with the back of his hand and then licks his lips. 'You have forgotten something?' His head is cocked slightly to the side as he waits for my reply.

'I have?'

'You have forgotten that I told you _not_ to do down the stairs. I told you more than once and I told you clearly not to. And you did. And your actions got me a broken neck, which still hurts by the way, and you are the reason we are here. I don't want to be here. Sam sure doesn't want to be here! But it was you Spence who caused it. So you need to remember that. You need to remember your place in this whole mess and be grateful that I'm including you cos you'd just as easily be dead in that car you sat in and shot up.'

'I didn't want to do that! You made me do that Floyd.'

'I made you come running down the stairs like some fucking little girl scared of the dark? I made you do that?' There is a hard angry tight look on his face.

'You made me shoot up.' I say almost as a sigh.

'You'd have done it anyway. You're weak. You're a weak nothing Spencer and this is all your doing, so don't you fucking dare come to me and moan about it one more fucking time! You are just getting what you deserve. I told you what to do. You ignored me. You are here getting me and Sam out of the shit you got us into. It's that fucking simple Babes.'

'That place…you knew….'

'Shut the fuck up Spence! Look at this.' He prods Sam. 'First you get me killed…then Sam. You won't be happy until you're eating my heart and looking at my head on the end of a pole over some fucking bridge somewhere will you? You just keep on and fucking on at me until I want to give up and be a slime crawling through hades cos that's better than being here with you.' The now empty container gets hurled across the tent and lands with a hard clang on the rocky floor. 'Get out and find out what they did with the rest of Sam. You can at least do your best for him as you ran off and let him get slaughtered like some fucking pig! Go and do your duty Spence and sort this shit out yourself. I've had enough of it for one day. I've had enough of this place and this stinking tent and of death and you. Fuck off.' And he belches and rolls over onto his back with a sigh. 'Thanks Babes.' And his eyes are closed.

I walk back out into the dim flickering light and make my way over to where I spoke to the old guy again. I'm not sure what I'm going to be able to do, but Floyd's words stung me. He is right. This is all my fault. He just wanted to take me on a relaxing vacation and it's ended up like this and I will fix it. I will do what is needed to end this mess. If not for me then for Floyd and Sam. I crouch down on the rock where I'd been standing before. Someone will come eventually out of curiosity as much as anything.

-o-o-o-

I'm back in the pit but I'm not alone and I'm not with dad either. I'm with some dude who is yabbering on at me and I don't want to listen to him. I can hear faintly in the background other voices which sound like dad and Spencer, but they are a long way off and getting further away. My throat hurts and my fingers hurt and my eye hurts. There is muck dribbling out of where that eye of mine was then wasn't then was again. And I should have appreciated its arrival a bit more cos now I can feel that icky stuff crawling down my face again I feel sick. They sliced my neck open. I could feel the cold metal cutting through me. I could hear and feel the blood leaving me and I could see myself emptying into a bucket thing. They killed me. That easy. After all this damned time and all my adventures I've been topped by some freak in fancy dress. No not dad…those other freaks.

'Get up and come with us.' I am being told but I'm not going to. I was told not to go anywhere and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Not that dad's wonderful advise has helped me at all in the past, but now I'm going to put some trust in him. He doesn't want me dead. I at least know that much.

'Follow us Trent-Saviour.'

I've not been called that in a long old time and it sparks off memories of that weird family I once had to live with.

'I'm not that anymore. You know I'm not that. Leave it. I'm not going anyplace. I'm staying here.'

'You want us to remove your head from your shoulders child then you carry on talking to me like that. I don't want to be in this shit hole any longer than I have to. They want up upside and so that's where you will go.'

'Fuck off.' I tell him. I'm not moving and this bastard doesn't have the authority to take heads or he'd have done it already. 'I'm waiting. Leave me alone.'

The claws get me around my collar bone and dig in. The hands pull me squelching out of the crap I was lying in and he lifts me up to his face.

'You are coming with me. Your time is over little one. He failed to protect you the same way he fails to protect anything he says he needs or loves. You're just one more victim of his messy ways.'

I would kick him in the nuts but these creatures don't have any. I'd head butt him but for the fear I'll damage my other eyes on his horny protrusions. I just hang there in front of him and spit a load of gob in his face. 'Ya wrong. You're so fucking wrong you stupid arse. He's going to fix all of this and you have no damned right to move me from here until it's over. And it's a long freaking way from over just yet. Put me down you freak and leave me alone. He's going to come and rip your face off if you damage me.'

And he fucking lets go of me! I'm shocked. I didn't think he would.

'Don't think you're going to be in peace little one. Someone will come for you and it won't be that which spawned you. You're finished. Breathe your last dirty breaths because the next one who comes here will not leave you in one bit. You'll have more than and eye missing little one.'

'Stop calling me little one you stupid fucker and get out of here. You're stinking the place up.' And I curl up and wait. If dad doesn't do something real fast I'm finished. And I don't much like the idea of ending my time here. I don't want to die in one place and then have to die all over again here…AND then have to die way back where I am with Rossi watching over me. Why can't I just die the once like normal people? Why do I have to suffer three times over just because of what I am? It's hardly my fault what I am is it? I didn't choose this. I'd rather be a normal kid…or me but with Iolanda and the clan. I want to fucking well go home! I don't want this. I want to be that carefree kid who skinned cats and collected clocks and had a mum and dad who didn't give a shit what I did. I want that life back again before dad had to come and mess it all up…failing that…if I cant have that I want to go where dad came from and try to win that crowd over. At least then I'd be sorta safe for a while, until I mess up.

Messing up seems to be genetic.

Dad though…he's the king of fuckups.

I close my eye and send out a little message to some old bird who stands in grass and gives normal people and angels one more chance. 'You going to help me out here? I know you have a soft spot for my dad…for the one who spawned me…you going to help me out too? Just once? Give me another chance and help dad at the same time? I know you can hear me…come on woman…help a kid in need out.'

Fat fucking chance.

What I get in reply is the sound of wings.

Yep…I'm done.

Come on dad! Help me out!

Fix me!

-o-o-o-

'What is it you want now Acolyte?'

I glance up and this time it is the big guy we first talked to. I give him a nod to let him know I recognise him and get to my feet.

'I need what you took from the boy.' I say. I'm so tired I think my words sound a bit slurred.

'We returned it.' He is still not looking me in the eyes and doesn't seem to like it when I attempt to make eye contact with him. He's still scared. I know that much. His posture as much as anything is telling me.

'No. No you didn't. And you know you didn't. Here's the thing though, what you gave The One has made him reconsider this situation and if you don't bring what he has requested immediately he will come out here and take what he needs from you.' I jab him over his heart with my finger. 'I don't make false threats so you'd best get going and bring what he has asked for.

He looks down at my finger but doesn't move. 'You see we have a problem Acolyte. What you are requesting we no longer have in our possession.'

'And I was not told this earlier because?' I feel a hot flush of panic come over me. Not because of what they might have done with it, but because of what Floyd will do to me if I fail him.

'Because they…' He nods towards where the old man seemed to go each time. '…thought you'd not know.' And now he takes hold of my wrist and pushes my hand away from him. 'I'm not scared of you Acolyte. Please don't mistake my way as being one who is afraid. I'm not. I'm just putting on a show for the elders. I will not hesitate to break your damned meddling neck if you so much as give me one excuse. You threaten me then consider yourself dead. I'm not one of these who believes in the book. I don't know who you are young man but you are not who you are pretending to be. You're disturbing us. Putting thoughts into confused heads and I'll not stand for it.'

I pull my hand from his grip. 'Then why the boot kissing? Why the grovelling in the dirt?'

'It's just a show for them. I can't go around having them think I'm not apart of this way, I'd be lynched in no time but I'm telling you young man that you are going to leave the way you came and if you cannot do that I'll show you an exit. I dunno where it goes but whoever goes through it never comes back so I don't think it's too good of a place.'

I frown at him. 'This place, where is it?'

'Ah you'll not be getting me that easily young man. I told ya. Go back the way you came if you can.'

'Where is the blood? That is what I came here for. What have they done with it?'

'Drank it. Fed it to the crops. Pissed in it for a laugh? I have no idea. Don't wanna know either. I just know they'll not be handing back Fairy blood for nothing. It's worth a fortune. They'll sell it. They'll make money and get some new damned tents no doubt. Buy in some breading stock. Fine girls who don't give birth to mutants. They're around. If you know where to shop…and if you have the right stuff to shop with. Fairy blood, now that's worth something. Even if they have watered it down with their own piss.'

'Why?'

'Cos that's the way it is here. You'll not get a drop of it back so you'd best go back to The One and tell him. Then pack up your things and leave here. You have disrupted us enough already'

I give him a small nod. 'I'd like you to come back with me to the tent and explain it to The One…'

'Naa…none of your tricks are going to get me. Forget it. Pack up and leave. Take your dead with you.' He moves in very close, so close that I can smell the food he had for dinner on his breath. 'And I'd make it fast if I was you. They might look like a soft bunch of wasters, but they will have you strung up and you'll be without a head faster than you can blink.'

I don't move back away from him even though my body is screaming at me to move away. He's in my personal space and it's not something I would usually put up with…but I stay my ground and talk back into his face. 'We are unable to return the way we arrived. That way is closed. You will tell me of this place you said about. Come to the tent with me and give us directions.'

'You are not who you say you are or you'd know.'

'I believe it was you who told us who we were. Tell me where this place is so we can leave and we will. We will take our dead and we will be gone before the sun comes up.'

'I'll talk to The One. I've done talking to you. Go get him. Bring him and your dead boy to where the cliffs overhang the beach. Back just down there.' He points with his finger. 'But I dunno why you'd want to go through, as said no one every comes back. They go through screaming and never return.'

'Well perhaps that place is better than this?' I snap at him. 'Give me fifteen minutes. Wait for us outside the tent. You will guide us there.'

He shrugs at me. 'You want me to risk my own life for yours? Why would I?'

I can't think of an answer to that question. Indeed why would he risk his life for us? Strangers who came and caused trouble and then left again. 'Just be there.' I say and walk back to where Floyd and Sam are.

-o-o-o-

I look up as Spencer comes back into the tent. He looks flushed and angry and he's got nothing in his hands. No new container of stuff I need. I watch as he sits down and pulls his knees up tight and wraps his arms around his legs.

'Well no luck I'm afraid. Seems that Sam's blood is worth a lot of money, but I think I know how to get out of this place. That big fellow we first spoke to, he has told me there is an exit. A place people can go through and not come back from. I'm guessing that's our next stop. We have about ten minutes to get our things together and get over onto the beach. He'll meet us there.'

I push up onto my elbow and squint at him through the crappy quality light. 'And if we go through and Sam's still dead?' He shrugs at me.

'I thought you'd know what to do about that. I don't know how these things work Floyd.'

He _doesn't_ know? Well nor do I it seems. I look at Sam and sigh. 'I don't know if I can stand. This thing with Sam seems to have drained me more than I thought it would.' I sit though with not too much trouble.

'We need to go. I'll carry Sam. You can hold onto me if you don't feel you can walk, but I can't carry you both and we can't leave Sam behind.' I watch now as Spencer goes into a crawl and moves over to Sam. 'Come on Floyd. You need to do something. We have to get out of this place.'

I wanted Sam fixed first. I don't like the idea of going on with him in this condition. I'm trying to work things out in my head but it's not happening. I've tried to contact Sam back in the pit but I can't get through. Something is blocking it. They are blocking communication. I know I've messed things up again and I know that whatever is through the next exit is going to be worse than this. Each one is going to be worse than the last until we reach the end. Maybe the next will be the end. I don't know yet. I can't focus my mind beyond knowing I have to do something for Sam. I watch Spencer lift him in his arms and move towards the door.

'We need to go Floyd.' He's saying to me. 'We need to go now while we have the chance.'

'I don't know Spence. I really don't know if this is going to help Sam.'

'Well maybe it wont, but sitting here doing nothing certainly wont. Get up Floyd and come with me.'

'An offer normally I'd not refuse but right now I think I'll just hold onto your arm. If you don't mind too much.'

He lets out a sigh and just stands there with the boy in his arms as I crawl across the floor and use the back of his trousers to pull myself to my feet. 'Not sure this is going to work you know. Leave me. Come back for me.'

'Just put an arm over my shoulder. I'm not leaving you. Stop being so damned self pitying and think of others. Just this once.'

He's making me so fucking cross! Thinking of others I think is what I did with that mine. Thinking of others got me here in the first fucking place. I don't know if he's saying these things to annoy me or if he's just trying to goad me and get me going. Either way it works. I wrap my arm around Spencer's shoulders and limping and feeling like I'm in some sort of muddy storm in my head we walk slowly towards where I can just about make out someone standing on the beach. I have a lot of questions to ask him before I go through any weird exit place. I want to know who else has been through it and why. I see that when we finally get there he lowers his eyes away from me. Spencer has explained in a whispered voice about the conversation he had with him earlier yet he still seems unable to look directly at me. This makes me curious as to how much truth he told Spence.

'It's this way. You have all you need?' He speaks to Spencer, but I answer.

'Questions first buddy. I have some questions.'

He sighs and nods but still doesn't look directly at me. 'What is it you need to know? You must be quick. I don't want to be seen with you. Can we walk and talk?'

I shake my head. 'No, we stay here. I ask questions. You answer them. The quicker you answer the quicker we can go.'

Another sigh and another nod. 'Very well.' A very unhappy sounding voice.

'I want to know who else has been through this exit of yours.'

His eyes flick towards me and away again. 'Other people have appeared on the beach. Like you they have been welcomed and tested. They have all failed. You have come closest to it. There were three of you as it's been told. And you had the Fairy Boy.' He glances at Sam in Spencer's arms. 'But they were not who we are waiting for. The same as you're not. They were addicts and murderers and perversions and demons. They were tested easily. It was clear to us and them that they were not The One. We put them through the exit.'

'How many? What do you mean by demons?'

His lip curls slightly and he fiddles with his fingers. 'I'd say two or three each full moon cycle. The demons, well, I don't want to insult you, but they are very much like you. They have a way about them. A smell about them. And they weaken quickly. Some say that their heads should be taken and they shouldn't be shown the exit and I think this is under discussion for you. I really would advise you leave now. Before the mob mentality takes over.'

'You think I'm a demon? They think that?'

He nods and looks down the beach. 'I don't go for what they say. I'm not a believer in that book, but I'm in the minority here. I want you away from this place. I want things to return to how they were. The cleansed one is my daughter. I don't want your demon seed in her.'

'Ah. Well that wouldn't happen, but I understand your concern. Show us the way out of this damned place then. And be quick. As you say…I am weakened by this place.'

He was just about to lead us away but then turns back and looks directly at me. 'Then you _are_ a demon?'

And I smile and shake my head. 'No, no, I'm not actually. I'm an angel. Can we move now? I feel that my legs are turning to jelly as we stand nattering.'

I see Spencer give me a funny look. I see this bloke giving me a wide eyed stare and then we are walking at last down towards the beach and hopefully towards a way out to a slightly more friendly place.

* * *


	24. Lessons

Part twenty-four: Lessons

* * *

Well I can tell you for sure that I'm not in a pit anymore. Something's changed and I'm not altogether sure that it's for the best. I'm sitting. I'm actually sitting in what appears to be a classroom of some kind. There's mathematical crap scrawled over the board at the front and I'm blinking at it trying to make it look less out of focus. It feels like something is tight around my throat. Right in the place it was slit and my fingers nervously move up to my neck and touch it. I can feel a scar there. A bumped up straight line going right across the front of my neck and now I am staring down at my hands which are still covered in tattoos. I blink again and realise that one of my problems with seeing is that I seem to only have one eye yet again. I move fingers over my face until I reach the patch that seems to be covering the mess. Sitting on the desk in front of me is a pair of glasses and I prod at them with the end of my finger which has wiggles and lines covering it.

'Is there a problem Sam?' I'm being asked and I look up to see and elderly man with a fluff of white hair either side of his balding head.

'I'm just not feeling too well.' I say. And my voice comes out in a whispered croak. Great. What else is wrong with me? Crapped vision, stupid hands…what else?

'You need some help?'

I don't answer him. I'm not sure what I'm meant to be doing. I see around me the collection of other students are scribbling things down on a pad but I don't seem to have anything to write with. I just shrug at him and pick up the glasses and slip them on to see if I can work out what's on the board. There's something else wrong too. It took a little while to work out what it was but there seems to be something wrong with my legs. I'm not able to move them properly so my hands now go down to my thighs and they rest nervously on what seems to be a nice chunky pair of leg braces. I bend over and look under my desk and it's then that I notice the pair of crutches lying on the floor and at the same time I get a better look at the things encasing my legs. OK…this is shit. Not as bad as being dead I suppose but still not good. Obviously I'm only half fixed. I look back at who I assume is the tutor who is staring at me and then I look up at the board again. It's a simple equation. I work it out in my head as the others are still scrawling down their answers on paper and I wonder if that's why I've not got something to work it out with. I don't need anything. I am of course a genius. At least I still have that.

'Sam?' I am being talked to again by the old bloke. 'Do you have an answer?'

I wipe at my nose with the back of my hand and blurt out what I think, no come on…lets get serious here…what I _know_ is the answer and there are some sighs around me and the tutor is grinning and someone is saying 'He's a cheat. I don't know why you let him get away with it. Just because he's a cripple you let him cheat on every damned thing.' I turn my head around and look at the red haired skinny student who was talking and show him my finger.

'Go sit on it arse hole.' I tell him and turn back to the tutor.

'And he is quite right in some ways Sam. You attitude and language need to be controlled.'

So I tell him where to stick his control. 'I've had enough for one day. I'm out of here.' But I'm not sure how I'm going to actually do that.

'Damned queer cripple.' Someone mutters as I bend down to pick up my crutches.

'Fucking retard.' I mutter back loud enough for everyone to hear.

-o-o-o-

I'm suddenly not on the beach anymore. I'm not with Spencer. And Sam is no where to be seen. I don't know if it worked or not. Not a fucking clue and I also have not an idea in my head as to why I am standing in front of a lot of kids who are staring at me like I'm meant to be doing something. A school room? University? I'm a lecturer? Of what exactly? I turn around and look behind me.

'Oh you are fucking me.' I say this really quietly to myself. It's covered in religious stuff. Bible stuff. Now I know my bible. Does that surprise you? Keep your friends close blah blah blah, you know how it goes, but lecturing on the subject, no thanks. I turn back to the class with a light sweat beginning on my brow and they are still staring silently at me and the air is full of female lust. Oh crap…just what I needed. There don't actually, now that I look, seem to be any boys here…just thirty or so lustful females of about nineteen years old.

'Ah…you can go.' And try to smile at them, but I'm not sure it works too well.

'Our assignment sir?' One of the girls is asking me. 'For the weekend?'

'Free weekend. Actually I want you to just think about things. Nothing on paper. I want you to really think about what we have gone over here and come back with an answer.'

'Answer sir?' Another girl who has too much makeup on and is flicking her hair with her fingers.

'The meaning of all of this. What is the point in it.' I lick my lips in a silent panic. 'And we can have a debate next time. Dismissed.' And with a mumble they begin to stand and leave the room. Fuck that. I sigh and sit on the hard chair behind a desk stacked with papers and put my head in my hands. There is no Spencer and no Sam. They must be around somewhere and I'll have to locate them somehow. I now take a look at what I'm wearing and wonder why I am here and how the hell being a tutor in this place can possibly be a test and how it can ever get me or us closer to where we are meant to be going. I seem to be dressed ok. Black jeans and boots…actually I have my dusty old cowboy boots on which feel good. I've got on a white Tshirt and that seems to be about it. Where I'm meant to go next is a mystery and I know I'm going to have to get up off my arse and explore this place and try to find the rest of us. Sam, if he is here would likely be a student somewhere…that's _if_ he made it here. Spencer? I have no idea. I take another look at the board which is covered in my hand writing, but I know full well I didn't bloody well write and it seems we've been discussing Revelations. Oh fabulous. I need to go and look up the names of students and staff and see if I can locate the other two and I am hoping and somewhat assuming they will have the right damned names. Sam would be a bit young to be here though so that's confused me a bit. I stand up just as the door swings open and a blond girl walks nervously into the room.

'Hi' she says to me and I try to give her a smile and I return the greeting and get ready to leave the room quickly. 'I need to talk to you about something.' And I frown at her.

'Not now.' I say dismissively and attempt again to get out of the room.

'It's really important.' Her big blue eyes are looking worried so I stop and lean on the desk.

'Hurry up then.'

'I know it's over between the two of us. I understand that.' She's closed the door and is talking quietly, but I think she's going to have to speak up. I must have misheard what she said.

'You? We? Us?' I'm not leaning on the desk now.

'I'm sorry, but this is important.'

'Carry on.'

'You know I'm pregnant.'

'Oh.' I shake my head. 'And you are telling me because?' my mind is going over a lot of different scenarios and I just keep coming back to the same impossible answer.

'You promised. You said you'd help me.'

I move away from the desk now. 'Yes sweetheart, but I've changed my mind. You getting up the duff has nothing to do with me. I have my own life and problems to sort out. I don't have time for yours too.'

'But you _promised_ me. You said you'd help me. Pay for an abortion. Pay me to keep it! You can't just walk away from it now.'

I reach the door and pull it open. 'Watch me.' I say and walk out into a pale green corridor. I don't give a toss what they want, I never got some slapper pregnant and I'm not going to ever get one pregnant. Not me, no way in fucking hell!

-o-o-o-

I'm standing in a noisy room full of teenaged males and females with a mop in my hand and bucket at me feet and I have not the slightest idea why.

'Over here Spencer!' Someone shouts at me and slowly as though in a daze I look up at who it is calling my name. 'Spilt something retard! Come and clean it up for me.'

I look down at the bucket and over at the overweight young man with the loud mouth and then back down at the bucket again.

'That's it Spencer. Bring – the – bucket; – mop – up – the – mess.' And there is a howl of laughter. I want to turn and walk away. I really don't want to be here, but this is where the fates or the gods have put me and I will play their game. At least until I locate Floyd and Sam…if Sam is here…I will play along. I lick my lips and bend down and pick up the bucket and walk over to where there is a splash of some kind of pudding on the floor.

'Good boy Spencer! You're finally getting the hang of this job aren't you?'

I want to say something. I want tell him … I'm not sure what I want to tell him, but something in my head is making words and thoughts confusing. They're crashing in from all directions and I just know if I attempt to say something I'll be tripping over my words and stuttering like a fool and so I keep my mouth firmly closed and carefully mop the floor.

'Having a good day Spencer?' a girl is asking me now. She's got dyed black hair tied back in a pony tail.

'Y, y…..' and I don't bother trying to say more. I can't. My brain and mouth are just not going to co-operate. She smiles at me though and gives me a wink and walks on.

'Ah you stuffing Kate are you?' One of the teenagers says mockingly. 'Yeah poor Kate. She'll even bed the retard.' And they're laughing again. I can't argue with them. I can't explain anything, there just don't seem to be any words in my head which will come out in a form that can be understood. I decide to ignore them and I pick up my bucket and walk back to the wall I was standing against when I first seemed to arrive. I have to find out where Floyd is. I have to try to find out if Sam is around, but I have not much of an idea of how I'm going to go about that. I know at least that my name is Spencer and so if Floyd and Sam are here surely they will have the right names too? I push the bucket hard against the wall and put the mop next to it. If they spill more food they can clear it up themselves. I'm going in search of the others.

Pushing through the big double doors I can hear laughter coming from down the corridor I am now in and I can hear someone shouting and though the words are foul and not ones I'd use I grin to myself and walk towards it. That is Sam. Though his voice sounds rough and hard I know it's him. Please let it be him!

'Fuck off you bastards!'

I can hear.

'Fucking leave me alone you shits! I don't need your bloody help!'

He sounds really angry and maybe a bit distressed. The shouting is coming from around the corner.

'Come on Sam…' I hear someone say. 'Just tell us if you've ever had a girlfriend.'

'Let me give you a piggy back.'

'Have you still got a dick?'

'And if you have can you get a hard on? Is that why you like it up your arse cos you can't fuck a girl?'

'Sick perverts like you should be put down. They didn't finish the job.'

'Watch your back Trent. Someone will decide to carry on where the others left off.'

And then Sam's voice again. 'Just fuck the hell off and leave me.' His voice sounds like he's been screaming for hours or has a throat infection. 'Shut your fucking mouths you c…..' And I turn the corner and he sees me at the same time I see him and his shouting stops and he is grinning. I maybe wouldn't have recognised him had I not heard his voice first. His hair is long and hanging down in a mess. There's a patch over his eye, he's wearing a pair of gold rimmed round glasses one of the lenses is dark and he has braces on both legs. He's standing in the corridor with a small crowd of girls and boys around him and he's got on a leather jacket and a black Tshirt with the name of some rock band or something written on it.

'Ah the retard to the rescue! Sam you crack us up you really do. The only friend you can make is the kitchen retard.'

But the crowd disperses and I move in quickly. 'S….?' I don't seem able to say the whole word and I bite down on my bottom lip in frustration. I can see now that the Tshirt has the words written on it in a greyed maybe once white fancy lettering _Boyfriends suck. _

'Well I had my throat cut and you're the one who can't talk. That's fair I suppose.' Sam moves towards me with a strange lurching swing and a pained expression on his face. 'Have you seen dad?'

'n, n, no.' I stutter out.

'Ok…conversation isn't going to work. We have to find dad. He's not going to be a student so I guess he's a tutor or maybe a cleaner?'

I shrug at him.

'Right. OK…look Spencer I'm going to get a list of lecturers. Good place to start? I was in some sort of maths thing. I seem to be the resident fag genius cripple half blind…whatever…I'm also older than I was. I'm certainly taller.'

I can't seem to be able to take my eyes off the scar on his neck. I have a dreadful urge to place and finger on there to make sure it's real and I think maybe I'm staring.

'Just relax Spencer and be thankful that it's me who can talk and not you. And you who can walk and not me. Wonder what they've done to dad?…and moreover what is this place? What the hell am I doing here? I don't do school.' He is lurching and moving along the corridor with me and I want so badly to talk to him and discuss what is going on, but the words are just not available. Yes they are in my head, but the connection between head and mouth seems to be missing. 'Got any pains other places? Is it that you just can't talk.'

I shake my head at him and shrug. No point in even trying. I want to know where we are going, but can't even do that. Does Sam know where we are going?

'Ahoy crip.' Someone shouts… 'Oh crip and the retard! Nice boyfriend crip!'

We walk onwards. 'I'm going to come back when I can and stuff this fucking crutch up their arses. They called me Trent. So I'm Sam Trent, you're Spencer the retard.' He pauses. 'I'm gonna try something. Catch me if I fall.' He leans hard down on his crutches and closes that one dark eye of his.

-o-o-o-

'_Dad?'_ The words scream into my head in a panic.

'_Sam! Hell it's good to hear you. Where are you? Have you seen Spencer?'_ I am standing leaning on a wall trying to work out what to do next.

'_He's here with me. I dunno where this place is…a school? Just outside what seems to be the lunch hall.' _Thank fuck for that at least. I can find a bloody canteen or lunch hall or whatever they call it here. I've got my boys. That's all I need to know. Well that and the problem of getting some tart pregnant.

'_I'll find you. Go eat lunch. I'll join you there.' _I pull myself off the wall and carry on walking. Places like this have notice boards and those boards often have maps. I'll just keep going until I find one.

-o-o-o-

'Dad is around.' I tell Spencer and give him a relieved sort of grin. He's going to meet us in the lunch room place.'

Spencer gives me a resigned sort of look and looks like he's going to say something but then stops again.

'He'll sort you out.' I tell him and he grins at me and then lets out a strange strangled laugh. Maybe I could have worded that better. 'I'm going to fall over if we don't keep moving though. I seem to need to momentum to stay upright. I push at the bridge of my glasses and look up ahead at the small crowd of kids standing there. 'Spencer, I don't think we are part of the popular crowd here. Let's just keep our heads down and keep moving.' And I'm off at a lurching pace with Spencer walking silently beside me. Damn I wish he could at least say something I could understand. This just sucks so bad.

We find somewhere quiet to sit and sitting I can tell you isn't an easy task for me. I can see that Spencer wants to help me out but I'm not going to have people see that I'm not coping. I'm going to be damned well independent no matter what those bastards who did this to me throw my way. I don't feel much like eating so we just sit in silence for a few minutes. Spencer is facing me and looking at my hands which are fiddling with a small sugar pack someone had left on the bench. I've got my back to the wall. I don't want no fuckers creeping up behind me.

'So what do you think the point in all of this is?'

Spencer stays silent.

'How long is dad going to be?'

And he shrugs.

'Can you at least try to talk to me so that I don't look like such a fool?'

'I, I, c….'

'OK don't bother and great someone is coming this way…I'd say _let me do the talking_ but I think I'm going to have to anyway.'

There is a group of four guys heading over to us. I saw them watching Spencer I saw them looking at me. I saw them laughing and discussing something and now here they are. One sits down one side of Spencer and one the other. They're not sitting too close though. Spencer gives them each a quick look then stares at his hands which are resting on this lap. One sits next to me and another pulls up a stool and sits at the end of the bench table we were previously sitting alone at. One of the kids is the red haired kid who started giving me grief in maths.

'So you're buddies with the retard?' Red asks me.

And I look him over for a while. 'I'd not call you one of my buddies.' I say and watch his expression turn from an amused one to an angry snarl.

'You know what I'm talking about. Him. And he points his finger at Spencer. The resident retard. Only person you can find who'll sit with you? What else does he do for you?'

'You need to butt out before you get yourself in trouble.' I reply and rip the top off the small thing of sugar.

'And what you going to do about it Trent? You going to beat me with a crutch?'

'I don't know what makes you think it's so great that I'm a fucking cripple. Does it make you feel special? You think this is amusing?'

'I think it's hysterical!' Red says and his friends laugh. I see Spencer's body posture has changed. He's getting ready to get up and stop whatever it feels like's coming and they sure as hell aren't going to go until they've done something to humiliate the two of us.

'Then you've had a very sad and sheltered life. Fuck off and leave us alone. And for your information Spencer here is far from retarded. I don't talk to idiots and so you can piss off.'

The hand that grabs me is fast. Faster than I can react to. I'm going to say that I didn't see it coming cos of my depleted visual awareness but it might just have been cos I was fiddling with the sugar and watching Spencer. Red has me by the collar of my jacket and is pushing me backwards. There's not a whole lot I can do to stop him either. My balance is fucked and I'm going back and smacking my head on the wall. My glasses go flying off my face and disappear somewhere and I vaguely see Spencer stand then fall backwards too. There's a racket going on. People chanting the words _Fight fight fight_ over and over but it's more of an attack than a fight. Red is pulling me back onto the bench seat I'd started to slide off and is pushing me back against the wall again. I feel my head smack once more and I can hear what is probably the sound of Spencer getting a slapping and then I hear something else.

'What in the name of fuck is going on here?' Dad's voice. 'Unhand them _both_ now!' and the hands let go of my jacket.

'I'm not finished with you yet scum.' And one more push before he suddenly shoots back out of view.

'I told you to get off him! I want your names. All of you. Your names.'

There's some scoffing noises and a few mumbles and someone laughs outright, but for now the trouble as stopped. Spencer is handing me my glasses and I'm putting them back on again. Dad looks good. He's faired better than Spencer and me anyway. Spencer by the way is in brown cords and a short sleeved blue shirt. He looks like shit. He looks like a retard. Names are being rattled off and people are being dismissed, all except for Red who is being told to wait. Once everyone else has gone Dad turns to him.

'I don't like bullying. I don't like fighting. You want to pick on someone boy, then you pick on me and I'll show you what it's like to get hurt, do you understand me?'

'Are you threatening me Professor Flanders?'

'No boy. I'm not. I'm promising you and I don't make many promises cos I so hate to break them and it makes my life difficult, so you take this back with you to class. It's a promise. You fuck with these two again and I'll rip you apart with my bare hands. You got that? You think you can remember that?'

The boy doesn't answer but gives Dad a funny look and scuttles away.

-o-o-o-

Trouble already. They just can't stay out of trouble, but giving them a quick once over I can see why they might be victims. Sam has a patch over his eye and pair of glasses and Spence? Well as lovely as he is today he is in full geek mode. Even with no glasses he looks like he should be playing chess somewhere and not sitting here with a tattooed weirdo.

'Tell me what the hell is going on?' I say to Spencer, but it's Sam who answers.

'He can't talk. His words are fucked. My legs are. My eye is once again gone, my remaining eye needs glasses but you'll be glad to know that I'm still a fag. Oh yes and I have a lovely scar on my neck as you can see.'

Dad looks now at Spencer. 'You can't talk?'

'N, n…' I give him a chance to say something other than 'n' and when he doesn't I go back to looking at Sam.

'Where were you when you came through?'

'Maths class and you?'

'Teaching religion. Spencer?'

He points to the bucket and mop at the side of the room. 'M, m, m…'

'Mop and bucket boy?'

And Spencer nods.

'Oh and it seems I've got one of my students pregnant, which is very interesting and I don't remember a damned thing about it. OK what we have here is a continuation of what was going on before. They've let you back Sam, but not fully. That's cos your blood was missing and is being used someplace else. You're not fully functioning because of that. Not much I can do about it, but I'm glad you're here. Spencer, you were doing a lot of negotiation where we came from and so they've shut you up. I'll get you pen and paper so you can at least communicate important stuff. You don't have to be a fucking mop boy though. I've been given the lot of the one who deflowered the girl so this is what I have to contend with. Anyone know where they actually live? Dorm rooms? Anything?'

They both shake their heads. 'You mean I have to sleep in this place? Any chance of finding out how this happened to me? I have a feeling it was a queer bashing thing. This place doesn't seem to be very politically correct when it comes to sexual orientation and disabilities. I suppose that sort of fits in with where we came from too.'

'And you look older. Nineteen I'd say. Very ripe? You are virgin? Nice Tshirt. Asking for trouble though, but I like it. I dunno if I should you know _Come out_ to this lot or just molest Spencer and let them see for themselves. Maybe I'll just keep things quiet for now. See how this lot react to that sort of thing.'

'Pregnant?' Spencer spoke! How long he'd been trying to get that word out for I don't know, but I'm happy to hear his voice.

'Yes, some girl came to me and asked for money. Which is another thing I don't seem to have any of. Sam….'

'NO.'

'No what?'

'No you're not pimping me out. Use Spencer.' I raise an eyebrow and look at Spence who is shaking his head and wording the word _NO _very clearly. 'Well I was hardly going to ask you to do that. I'd get next to nothing for you in this place. Spence either. Me however…That might well be an altogether different game. I look ok don't I? No makeup or facial disfigurement? And if I'm supposed to have screwed a girly then my area down there must be working fine too. Move over Sam. Let me sit. Right…I'll go leave you two soon. I want to find out where we live. Actually Spencer come along with me. You can listen in and take note, mental note. Maybe it's better if this lot think you can't read or write. You might get to hear things you know? If people think you can't repeat it, which you can't, but you know what I mean I'm sure. I'm going to see where we all live then, OK, and maybe find out some other stuff…Spencer with me. Sam you going to be all right here alone?'

He sighs and pokes the sugar which has been tipped onto the table. 'I'll behave if that's what you meant. Whether this lot will leave me alone or not is another question. Go on. Go. I want to know where I'm going to be sleeping tonight and get this shit off my legs and have a look at my eye properly and have a better look at my hands. Why've they left this on my hands? What's it mean?'

I get up again and move to Spencer and take his arm. 'With me then Babes.' I say quietly into his ear. 'And I'm going to try to pretend to be a nice guy. Let's see how long I can keep it up for. The niceness that is.' And with a nod to Sam I leave him alone and drag Spencer out of the door with me. 'You know what these places are like. The sort of layouts they have. Where are we going to find administration? Just take a wild guess cos I have no idea and I'll look like a fool asking.'

-o-o-o-

They've left me alone and I'm not sure it was a good idea, but maybe not a bad one either. I don't feel like meddling and intrigue today. I just want to sit here and feel sorry for myself. There's _no smoking _signs on the walls so I guess that this smoke I've just discovered in my front pocket – don't ask what my hand was doing in there you don't want to know – well the smoke will have to wait, unless I can get my sorry arse off this bench and go someplace to relieve my stress. Somewhere other then the bathroom.

'Hi.' And someone is sitting down on in the place Spencer just vacated.

'Hi.' I say back and keep prodding at the sugar.

'I was going to ask you earlier but the guys seem to have it in for you today so I kept back.'

'Ask me what?' I don't look up at her. My empty eye is itching now and I want to pull the patch off and scratch at it, but I don't know what's behind it yet, so I just pull a face and push the sugar away from me and try to ignore it.

'Well you do the assignments for people sometimes. For money?'

I look up at her now. 'That's cheating. I don't cheat. I don't encourage it either.'

She's biting on her bottom lip. 'Well the thing is that I don't even have any money so I couldn't give you cash as such, but I was hoping I could persuade you to help me out. I just don't understand all this stuff and you find it so easy, so if you could, you know? Not do the assignment but give me extra tuition I'd see it was worth your while.'

Now I look at her face. She's OK looking I suppose. She's very pale and there's a blotch of red on each of her cheeks. Her brown hair is hanging down to her shoulders and she's got on a pink blouse thing and maybe jeans…hard to see with her sitting down.

'Worth my while? How? I don't think you've got anything I'd be interested in.'

'Please, I don't like to beg, but you're a genius and I know you never go out in the evenings and I really do need to catch up. I'm so far behind. Sam I'd not normally ask someone this, but I really do need some help.'

I think about what dad said. About trying to be a nice person and I look at that pathetic face and sigh. 'Well if you think I can help you can come to my room later and if I'm there I'll go over the basics. Once you have them you'll be away. It's simple stuff really.'

She leans forward and plants a kiss on my mouth and I'm OK with that. I prefer being buggered, but a bit of girly occasionally is good too and if that's what she's offering then I'm not going to turn it down now am I? I grab her hair and pull her closer. 'A down payment.' I say as I lick across her lips. She pulls back from me and her face is flushed scarlet now but she knows what I'm meaning and she gives a small smile.

'Will I need to bring anything with me? Apart from my books.'

'Well that's entirely up to you sweety. I'll see you later then.' I want to remind her to take a shower. I want to tell her I don't usually do this, but I don't. 'You know my room number?' I think to ask.

'Lucas Dorm room 101 right next to the fire exit on the first floor.' She gives a final quick smile and she's gone. Well that's good. At least I know where I'm staying. I have a key in my pocket with no number on it. Which is good for if you drop it or get it lifted but not so good if you don't remember where you are staying. I slide my butt across the bench to the end and then bend down and pick up the crutches and then lurch my way out of the room without any other bother or fuss. Now all I have to do is find the dorm I am in and I'll be able to lock myself away and feel safe. There is a constant feeling that someone is going to jump me when I walk along here.

'Trent!' Just as I thought it was safe. 'Where you going? Back?'

I turn and see a lanky blond guy. His hair is cut very short and he's walking with a limp. The gimp brigade maybe. 'Yeah I need a rest. I'm knackered.' I tell him.

'I'll walk with you if you don't mind. Safety in numbers and everything. So how's it going? They getting at you badly? Hell I thought it was bad for me and I only show a limp, but as soon as they know there's a body part missing then you get called mutant and stuff, but hardly my damned fault now is it? Huh?'

'Nope not your fault.' Mutant? That's an odd turn of phrase and I want to warn dad about that one. It seems we are still quite connected with the last place we were at. Dad's religious stuff might not be all he thinks it is.

'So you've never said what happened to you. You born like that?'

I give him what would have been a sidelong glance but isn't cos I'm missing an eye from that side. 'No, wasn't born like this. And it's not something I really want to talk about.'

'Well I suppose you're lucky then. It's worse if you're born defected. You get chucked out straight away. But you'd know all that. I bet they weren't happy when you had your accident.'

'Yeah I know all bout being thrown out of somewhere.' I think back to the clan. 'But, I don't want to talk about it. Sorry mate. If you were looking for conversation you came to the wrong bloke.'

He just nods and says no more. We walk out of a doorway and into a long narrow corridor with glass walls. It seems to be a connecting tunnel type thing which was likely not there when this place was built. Safety reasons mayhaps? Keep the students out of danger by being in the open. Though this is pretty cool and would be better if I wasn't feeling so exhausted.

'You look sick as a dog.' My companion lets me know.

'Yeah well it's pretty tiring lugging myself everywhere. I'll get over it. I'll get better.'

And he laughs and pushes open the next door for me. ' Night then Trent. See you in class tomorrow. And be warned, try at least to get with the program and work stuff out on paper first. You're making us all look as thick as the mop boy.'

The door I am next to says 101 so I have to assume it's mine. I slip the key out of my pocket and now realise that I have to let go of one crutch to get the key in the door. I lean on said door for balance and slip the key in. The door swings open and I go flying inwards and land on my face. The door slams automatically behind me. It's dark. The floor stinks, but I'm safe. Thank the gods of Pluto I made it here in one bit.

'_I'm in room 101'_

I let dad know.

'_I'll be there later.'_

'_Can we leave it tonight? I think I've got a date.'_

And I shut down before he can reply and curl up on the floor and amuse myself for a while taking some quiet comfort with my hand.

* * *


	25. Dinner with the Wife

Part twenty-five: Dinner with the Wife.

* * *

Floyd used the excuse that he had a problem pupil who he needed to check up on. That was all that was needed. Well that and a smile and a bit of 'You're looking lovely today, is that a new dress?' And the woman was all over him offering him any assistance she could. The computer terminal is what he requested and I stood back silently and watched as he caused a distraction by asking for coffee and then slipped his sneaky way into the records. As she was giving me funny looks I just gave her a pathetic small wave and a little smile and tried my best to look like part of the background. It didn't take him long thank goodness. I had begun to get fidgety and ill at ease standing there grinning inanely at nothing.

'With me.' Floyd suddenly was at my side. The coffee left untouched on the counter and he's guiding me down the corridor away from ears and eyes. 'I know where we all are now at least, but there's a slight problem.'

And he's walking faster now and his hand has dropped from my arm but his sideways glances are telling me to get a move on and keep up. He pauses outside the men's room and shakes his head and walks on with me marching at his side.

'We need to be very careful and I'm worried about Sam.'

'Wh, wh?' is all I manage to say and it's beginning to really frustrate me now that I cannot ask what's going on.

'I'm married it would seem. You live in a room at the rear of the kitchens.' He gives me my room number. 'Not hard to find. My problem is a bit more complex. There seems to be a woman waiting for me at home.' And he rattles off his address to me. 'Meet me there later.'

'How?' I spit out. How am I ever going to find him.

'The last place we were at we were strangers. We were able to make up a life and a story, here though we are known. We have background and it seems I'm straight. Well on paper anyway.' He now pushes me into a small alcove and leans heavily against me. 'The culture here isn't a happy American or even English one of acceptance about race or sexuality or religion or even disability. Really Spence it's best you don't have the ability to ask questions. Keep as low profile as you can. Do what is expected of you. Don't talk…erm…communicate with anyone unless you have to and keep things simple…even more simple than you appear to be. I'm going to see what the hell is going on and why we are here and why the hell they've stuck us in this situation. Sam though he's going to have to watch his step. We both need to keep a distant eye on him. I need to warn him. Being gay here is likely to get you killed. Very likely and is no doubt the reason Sam is in the mess he's in right now and maybe why I'm apparently married. You know Spence it's you I want. You know that don't you?'

I nod at him. He's talking in a fast almost panicked fashion.

'Good. Don't you forget that. I'll sort things my end. You stay away from Sam. Right away.'

'No.' Again the word is spat out. I don't want to leave Sam to cope with this alone. I don't want to be left to deal with this alone either.

He sighs at me and gives me a quick nod. 'Just remember Spence that this place is dangerous. It's not the nice comfy home you came from. You're not going to be accepted by these people. Don't let your defences down Babes. Don't come to me unless I ask you to, unless it's an emergency. If you want to stick with Sam then you're putting yourself in danger, but I understand why you might want to. I have to go. You need to go back to the kitchens and cut through the back. I'll see you later at my place. I'm across the main quad and to the rear…apparently. I need to go and see who the hell I'm married to and see if I can get a quicky divorce!' His tongue moves quickly over my lips and his hand moves to the front of my trousers. 'And no more physical contact for now. At least not where we can be seen.'

And he pushes me back out of the way and points back towards the lunch room and the kitchens and then turns and is gone.

-o-o-o-

My house is a jolly nice house. It stands in a row of places obviously occupied by other staff members. Mine seems to be the last in the row. It's a small place painted white with black beams across it. It's old. I can smell the age of the place. There are no front lawns or anything pretty, just a gravelled pathway. With a resigned sigh I approach the door which seems mine and turn the handle and walk in. There's a strong smell of cooking which makes my stomach turn in distaste. The room I'm in is the lounge; dark walls covered in paintings, wooden floor, a couch and a big television which is showing me a blank screen right now. An open door looks like it goes into a kitchen and a flight of stairs goes up into darkness.

'Ah at last you're home.' A female voice from the kitchen. I walk slowly and guardedly towards the light. It feels like I'm walking towards hades though. I don't like this one bit. I enter the large airy bright kitchen and just stand there staring at a dark haired woman wearing not much but a see through overly short frilly tarty night dress – I hope to the gods that it's a night dress – She turns to look at me with a smile on a face which might have been OK looking if it didn't have so much makeup on. To be honest she looks like a drag queen. A good looking drag queen.

'You like?' She does a twirl for me.

'What the hell is it?' The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself and I have to quickly change track. 'What are you cooking?'

'That's not what I meant.' And she's walking towards me and I'm backing off just as quickly.

'I thought I'd make an effort for you tonight. But you know I don't cook as well as you do. We could forgo the food?'

Ah shit. I virtually fly for the couch and sit looking at the blank screen and she's there in front of me on her knees and her hands are on my legs and moving towards places I don't want her hands to be.

'I've invited…I'm going out.' I say as I place my hands over hers to stop them encroaching any further up my legs.

'Out? This was meant to be our night in! Why do you constantly do this to me Floyd? What's going on? You go out more and more often and people will begin to ask questions. Are you seeing someone else? Is that what it is?'

And her hands have slid away from under mine and are moving to my groin. 'Spencer's calling later. I'm taking him out for a drink.'

She stands now and looks down at me. 'I thought that was over with. I thought you'd realised what a dangerous game that is. People won't like it.'

I quickly cross my legs to stop any further mauling and look up at her. 'It's a drink not a sexual encounter.'

'But tonight was going to be just us. You promised you'd not go out again this week.'

I can smell that vile stench coming from the kitchen and give her a small smile. 'Is the food burning my dear? I think you need to check on it.' But she doesn't move…actually she kneels back down again.

'I'm not going to be a victim Floyd. You are promised to me and your nights out will stop.'

She's threatening me. The bitch is actually threatening me and I don't like that. Not one little bit do I like that and I can feel my toes curling in my boots and the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

'Don't you threaten me girl.' I snarl at her as her hands move back up my legs to that place she seems intent on reaching. 'And get your hands off me.'

'Just talk to me. I'll understand. You need to trust me.' This time she slides onto the couch next to me and I get a waft of what is probably expensive perfume. 'I know that you work real hard love, but you did promise me. You said you'd not see Spencer again. I'm scared for you. You know I am don't you?' He arm is snaking around my shoulder now and I swivel around slightly so I can look at her face.

'There's nothing to say. I'm tired and I wanted a quiet drink and a smoke and you don't get much quieter than Spencer. I can't see why that's such a problem.' And really I can't. 'Now if I was fucking him then, yes you'd have a right to be cross, but I'm not.'

'Why do you have to be so vulgar? And I don't know that! We've been married four years Floyd and the only sex we've had isn't likely to make a baby now is it? I need to have a child! I need to prove to people that I'm clean!'

I rub at my eyes with my fingertips and then look at her. 'Sonia, I'm not stopping you from going someplace else you know. If that's what you want. If all you want from me is to prove to that lot out there that you can spawn something with the right amount of limbs then go ahead. I'm sure there's plenty of blokes out there who'd be willing to fuck you. Me though? I'm not interested. I don't want to sire your brats and I do want to go out for a drink with Spencer.'

That didn't go too well. Really not well at all, and the thing is that I'm telling the truth. I am a very capable liar, but right now every word I'm saying is truth. If she wants kids she can go cock hunting someplace else cos I'm not sure that her breading stock is quite fine enough for me. She's on her feet though and the smell of burning is getting worse. Her bare feet slap on the wooden floor as she walks away shouting abuse.

'You will have to prove yourself Floyd. They will come and they'll want to know why we have no children and I'll tell them you won't prove yourself with me. I'm not going to take the blame for this. I'm not the one at fault. It's you. You only have eyes for that retard from the kitchens. Yes he's got a nice face Floyd and yes he's a good silent chap to go and have a drink with but I swear that you look at him differently than you should and if I've noticed then I'm sure the other faculty members have noticed. I see whispered conversations. I see people looking at me and I'm not going to put up with it. I'll get Spencer moved away if he's such a distraction.' She's poking angrily at the food now with a wooden spoon and moves up and stand behind her.

'Keep your voice down. Our problems are our own. Let's not go sharing them.'

And she spins at me with the spoon in her hand and flicks muck over the front of my white Tshirt. 'Our problems are our own? No! That's the whole point Floyd. You have to mess around with Spencer and I heard that you intervened during a fight with that cripple Trent today too. What's on your mind? Why are you putting yourself and me in such danger! Why can't you back off and leave things alone. Trent won't be around much longer. He's a blatant trouble maker. Someone will get him pretty soon. That sort of thing, you showing sympathy is not what's meant to happen! Just leave it. Let someone put the revolting animal out of his misery for goodness sake.'

'Voice. Keep it down.' I snarl in her face and she slaps me. Yes _she _slaps _me_ with the wooden spoon. She slaps me with it across the side of my face and I'm afraid that's all it took. Well not all. I could maybe have taken that had I not thought that she was going to nag me half to death and cause problems for the other two. I snatch the spoon out of her hand and place it on the counter. 'Enough.'

'Don't you threaten me Floyd.'

'It's not a threat.' I place a hand on the side of her head and twist my fingers through her hair. My other hand I rest on her shoulder. 'I'm going out tonight. I'm going to give Spencer a blow job and then I'm going to go find Sam Trent and fuck him. Is that all right with you?' I look at her face and see the look horror on her face. 'Or maybe I'll just go out for a quiet drink, but as you seem to think I'm such a bad boy, I might as well live up to expectations.' I smile at her. 'Will that suit you, you nagging ugly whore?'

I don't wait for an answer and the results are quick and very clean. She's a dead heap on the floor before she can take another breath. Now I have to think about disposal and I don't want to think about stuff like that now when I have a date with Spencer looming. I pull the blinds down on the kitchen windows, I lock the back door and then go and lock the front one. I then run up the stairs and search out the bathroom. Second door along on the landing takes me into a room with a big white tub and a separate shower cubical. The room is all white and shiny and wonderful and smells nicely of bleach and cleaning fluids. It smells and looks like I've spent many an hour in this room. The only other room up hear takes me to a bed room. The room is big and has a lovely fancy bed in the middle of it. I pull the drapes and turn on a side lamp and then leave, closing the door behind me. I then jog back downstairs and grab dear Sonia, dear ex-Sonia under the arms and drag her up stairs. For now I put her in the bathtub. Then I cover her over with a towel. I'll have to get Spencer or maybe Sam to help me out and get rid of the body. I'll probably need a saw and a good knife. Back to the bedroom and I open the closet and choose something good to wear. I have a nice selection and there at the back hanging on a big hook is my beloved "WHORE" belt and buckle. I add that to the pile of clothes I get out ready to wear.

Shower time. I want to get the smell of her perfume off me and so I go back to the bathroom.

I get very distracted.

Distracted might not be the word you'd use in court to describe what I did to Sonia but it seems to fit the situation really.

-o-o-o-

I find my room without too much trouble and without the need to go and try to ask someone which is a blessing. The room is in a small block of concrete with a nice display of bins in front of it. The whole area smells of rotting food. I've smelt worse, but it's not really a place you'd choose to live in. The main door of the building opens into a small urine stinking lobby with a few doors leading off. I look on these doors for the correct room number and pull a key from my pocket with seems to be attached to my belt loop by a long strip of elastic. At least I'll not drop it or get it lifted I suppose, though I have a suspicion that I'm not going to find much worth pinching behind this battered door I'm standing in front of. There is a light on. I can see it under the door and there is the sound of light rock music playing. I take a deep breath and unlock the door and walk in.

'Oh hey.' Someone says.

The room is not very big. It smells, unsurprisingly of bins and there are two beds and a window. That's about all. On one of the beds sits a guy in his thirties I'd judge. He has a magazine of some kind open on his lap.

'Hi.' I reply and let the door close behind me. Now what? I don't know this person's name. I don't know that the hell is going on and so I walk slowly in and sit on the vacant bed.

'I've been meaning to talk to you about something and I know you don't like to talk so I thought you could just listen and stutter out the occasional thing if and when you can.' He puts the magazine to one side and puts his hands on his knees. 'You want to be careful.' He tells me and to save my brain from the struggle of talking I just shrug at him. He's wearing a pair of jeans which look like they need a good wash and a blue and white checked shirt. His hair is short and probably brown, but it's hard to tell as it looks like it's not been washed in months. 'That Trent kid you are hanging around with.' And I just continue to watch this person. 'Well you are asking for trouble you know. You need to avoid people like him. Especially as those guys have a want to pick on you all the time. You're just asking for more reasons for them to slap you around.'

I try to tell him that I know what I'm doing but my words just won't come out. 'It, it, it's….'

'Yeah I know. I know what you are doing. Stick with the kid who has the mouth and attitude but it'll turn nasty and he's not going to be around for much longer. You can tell by the looks he's getting. He's no good. Stay away from him Spencer. He's got a reputation for liking things we should avoid. And now that damned Flanders guy is getting involved. It's all going to end up a bloody nasty mess and you know it will.' He really seems genuinely concerned. 'Trent might well have a good brain but he's a crip and a deviant. Stick with me mate, you'll be better off.'

'He's OK.' I manage to fire off.

'Only OK if you want to end up like him. It's a damned death wish Spencer and that Flanders isn't much better. There's rumours of all sorts going on about him. Don't know what on earth he's doing sticking up for Trent like he did, but he's not a nice person. I've heard the girls saying things about him.'

I shrug again and wonder now what's being said and how I can ask without it looking too obvious and how I can then report this information back to Floyd.

'Wha, wha….?'

'Oh just nasty stuff you know? That he hits his wife and messes around with the students in his class. Avoid them Spencer. I saw what happened in the lunch room earlier and I didn't like it. I don't like how things are turning. It's getting worse. They're getting bolder. Trent is getting bolder. He thinks he has connections cos of where he comes from, but his family aren't here are they and when the shit hits the fan you're going to be lucky if you're not standing right there in the way of the fire.'

This time I shake my head and fall back so I'm lying down on the bed. A waft of stink comes up off it and I wonder if the bed linen is ever actually changed.

'You gotta see it Spencer. You're not right in the head. We all know you're a retard, but man, you don't want to hang with Trent. They're going to lump you in with him and they'll assume that there's something going on between the two of you if you get my drift.'

I get his drift and I wish he'd shut up so I could concentrate and figure out what to do next. My impulses are telling me to go to find Sam and warn him to calm down his attitude they are also giving me alarm signals to stay away and try to keep the low profile Floyd told me to keep. I decide that I'll just lie here for a while and talk to Floyd about it when I see him. If his wife lets him out to play that is.

'Well I'm just warning you, cos I like you and all, but know that if trouble starts I'm having no part of it. I'm here to try to straighten out the mess I made and I'm off the drugs and I'm slowly getting there and I'm not going to risk my life for you. As long as you know that. When trouble starts I'm walking away from it.'

'OK.' I whisper to him. I don't know if he hears me and I don't really care. What I do know that is Sam is in danger and Floyd is going to have to tread carefully too. I'm hungry and thirsty and there doesn't even seem to be a tap in the room. I'll wait. There is a clock on the wall telling me that it's six in the evening. I will give it a couple of hours and then go and see if I can find Floyd. Though what then I don't know, but maybe he'll have worked out what is going on by then.

-o-o-o-

I'm still lying on the floor where I landed when I hear a couple of taps on the door.

'Yeah come in. It's not locked.' I call out and try to wriggle across the room somehow grabbing at my crutches at the same time. This room is filthy and dark. A sharp shaft of light opens across the room in the shape of a triangle and then it's gone again.

'Sam?' It's the girl.

'Yeah, turn the light on will you?' The light is dim and doesn't really give the room a nice comfortable feel. My bed it seems is just a mattress on the floor. There's a door in one wall which I think might lead to the bathroom.

'What are you doing on the floor?'

'I sort of fell here and couldn't be arsed to get up again.' I roll over onto my back. 'Join me; it's easier than trying to get up again.'

She gives me a nervous smile and drops a bag of books on the floor next to me.

'It's OK, I'm not going to hurt you. Unless the maths gives you a headache.' I say to her. I feel strangely relaxed around this person. I don't feel that nasty spite coming off of her like I did from the others. She sits next to me with her legs crossed and pulls a book and some a pad and pen out of her bag.

'Well I'd not be here if I thought I was at risk of you hurting me. You're not a vampire or something are you?'

I push up onto my elbows and look at the book she's brought with her. 'Or something maybe, vampire, no. You're safe.' The metal of the things on my legs is digging in horribly and I rub with irritation at the tops of my legs. It's weird cos I have feeling in my legs. I can even move them, I just don't seem to be able to walk or stand. I look over at her and she's watching my hands.

'Did someone do that to you? You know, hurt you? No one really knows. There's all sorts of rumours flying around.'

'You came here to ask why I'm messed up or for help with your maths?'

She picks up her pen and starts an annoying click, click, click with it. 'Well a bit of both maybe? Jim says you're a mutie but I don't think you are.'

I snort out a laugh at her. 'I wasn't born like this if that's what you mean. I had an accident. A bike accident. Nothing amazing. Nothing wonderful or strange. Just an accident.' In actuality I have not the slightest fucking idea what's meant to have happened to me but it shuts up the questions for now…well most of them.

'Are you blind in that eye you have covered? I mean….'

I flip up the patch for her to look. I don't know the answer to that myself until I see her lip curl back in disgust. I guess I've just exposed an empty socket to her. 'Don't ask if you don't want to know.' I say.

Click, click, click.

'So they're saying that you like, that you…They say you're.' She sighs and starts again. 'They cut the muties.' She's looking at me. 'but you say you're not one, so you're not cut? Word is that you are though.'

Click, click, click.

'Cut?' Now I'm confused.

'They take their balls at birth. You know?'

'I know.' I lie. 'I still have all my tackle in tact and safe and ready to use at any time. No problems here.' I give her a smile and I hope she'll shut up now. 'You want me to go over this for you or not? There's other things I can be doing other than lying on the floor with a girl talking about my balls.'

She does a nervous little cough and pushes the books out of the way. 'Sam, can I ask you something?'

I have a feeling that this isn't going to be about maths. 'Fire away.'

'Well, here's the thing. I can't pay you for this help you're going to give me and I don't want to take help from you and not be able to offer something in return.'

I start fiddling now with the buckles holding these things on my legs. 'What've you got in mind?'

'Well as there are rumours going around that you're a mutie and cant take a girl and that's why you like it up your butt, well I thought we could prove them wrong.'

I stop fiddling and just stare at her for a second and then resume my fiddling. 'Thing is this, I'm happy to help you out. You seem like a nice person, but I'm not going to take advantage of you. I don't want to fuck you, if that's what you're asking me to do.'

'A blow job? Anything? I can tell people that I did it. It will stop them picking on you so much. I can tell them that they're wrong and you're not a fag.'

I manage to undo all the buckles from the first brace and then turn to her again. 'I don't want a blow job. I don't want any sexual favours. I offered to help you and I will.'

'So they are right? You are a fag?'

I start fiddling with the other brace now. 'Look here, the thing is I broke my spine. I can't get a hard on. Not that easily. It's not….'

Her face falls and flushes red. 'Oh by the gods I'm so sorry Sam. I didn't think. I'm sorry.'

'Don't be sorry. Just hand me your notes and let me see where you're going wrong.' Now I am going to have to try real hard not to get over excited over her number work and get a stiffy, cos then she'll want to put her sweet little mouth around it and I might just drown her. I try, I do so try not to let it happen and her hands are on my leg undoing my straps and the books are being pushed away again and she's pushing me back onto to floor and she's there on top of me sitting astride me and rocking her little hips and grinding against me and well, it's not that easy you know. Not that easy to resist being touched. I don't give a shit if it's some girl wanting to prove something to her class mates that Sam Trent isn't a mutie all I can think of is….

'Oh lord.' My voice has that low husky whisper to it again.

'I told you I could pay you.'

'Ah…aye you did.'

'You don't mind do you?'

'Does it look like I mind?' My tattooed hands have reached up and I give her titties a squeeze and her hands are unzipping and pulling and pushing and I'm groaning and moaning and I can feel her heat on me and as suddenly as she started she's gone and I didn't even get to fuck her.

-o-o-o-

I listen to my room mate nag on at me for another hour and a half and then I make my excuses as best I am able. 'Walk.' I manage to say after a lot of stuttering and starting over.

'Yeah well be back before curfew or your ass will be grass.'

Curfew. That had not occurred to me, but I give him a smile and get up off the bed with my head spinning with warnings to keep away from Floyd and Sam; the two people I have every intention of staying as close to as I can. I leave the concrete bin smelling prison like building and start walking. I have a rough idea where to find where Floyd is, I just have to hope I can find it without too much trouble. Or without any trouble actually. The night air is cool on my skin. There is a light breeze and I can hear the sounds of many different types of music coming from open windows. I don't actually recognise any of the tunes though which is just another indication that I'm not anywhere near home. I can hear my feet crunching on the ground as I walk with my head down. Keep a low profile. Stay inconspicuous. I keep telling myself this. I'm just one more person walking in the evening. Most people are inside now but there are still a few courting couples standing under trees and sitting on benches giving each other loving touches and kisses. It makes me feel homesick. It makes me want to be away from all of this and go home where I can be free to hold someone in public and not be at risk of being beaten for it. And being beaten would likely be the least of my worries. I have a funny feeling that the policing of unwanted behaviour is left to the public around here.

Finally I can see a row of buildings. Small and white with exposed or semi exposed beams painted black. They all look the same. Lights glowing at the windows. The flicker of television screens can be seen. Occasionally there is the shadow of someone walking in front of a window. I just stand and look at it for a little while. It all seems so comfortable and normal. Friendly and inviting. All except for the home at the end. It stands in virtual darkness. There is no flicker from a TV coming from it. The curtains seem to be pulled for extra privacy and it's no surprise that it's this house I'm heading for now. The crunch of my feet and the sound of my breathing is all I can hear as I step up to the door and knock gently. I can't hear voices. I can't hear anything at all and I wonder if he's actually in. Has he gone out with his wife? Has he forgotten he told me to come here? His wife…that sounds strange and more than a bit unbelievable. I tap again at the door and decide to wait for a few more minutes before leaving, but this time I can hear footsteps. It sounds like someone coming down the stairs and I wonder if I disturbed him and his _wife._

'Who is it?' An irritated voice, but it's definitely Floyd.

'Sp, sp…' I start but the door opens and a hand reaches out and grabs me and with a small squeak of surprise I'm dragged into Floyd's lounge. I just stare at him and mouth some words but don't bother with the sounds. He's covered in blood. His face, his hands, his arms, this clothing. Totally covered.

'Ah don't mind my mess Spencer. I won't be long. I guess I need a shower.' He's turning and making for the stairs.

'What?!' I shout out.

'I was eating. The wife.'

And he's running up the stairs.

-o-o-o-

She's gone but someone else has taken her place. It's Red from maths. 'Right you little shit. Now we've got you.' And the kicking starts.

* * *


	26. Tub

Part twenty-six: Tub

**a/n: slight slash**

* * *

I follow Floyd up the stairs at a run and then stop short and stand in the bathroom doorway. Floyd's quickly pulling off his clothing and though under most other circumstances this would hold my attention pretty well, it's not him I'm looking at. What I can see it literally a blood bath. If that had once been a female it's not looking like one now. Her chest has been torn open. There are bits, bit which normally should be inside someone lying next to the mess in the bathtub. There is blood up the walls and dripping over the side of the tub forming little puddles on the white floor tiles. The smell is unbelievable. I can't see her face it's just a splat of blood. There's really not much at all to see of who ever that was to begin with.

'Hey Spence.' He sounds cheery and completely unfazed by this. 'Don't worry. Nothing is real. It's just a game. Remember that.'

I shake my head and look over now at Floyd who's got his back to me and is turning on the water for the shower.

'Shit.'

Now I don't normally use bad language. I consider it un-necessary, but that's the only word that would come out of my mouth. I tried others. I tried whole sentences out in my head first, but that's the only word that made it from my brain to my mouth. He steps under the water and turns to look at me. And again I'm not really looking at what I can see; I'm imagining what he's done to who I think was his wife.

'Don't use that sort of language Spence. It doesn't suit you. You want to join me here? You stink.' He's got some soap in his hand and is quickly rubbing it over himself, over his chest and up his arms and now in his hair. 'You could help me out a bit here maybe?' But I'm backing off and shaking my head.

I know what he is. I guess I've always known what he is, but I don't like to be faced with this sort of – I don't even know how to describe it! I don't want to face it. I don't want to have to acknowledge that he is this monster. All the time I don't have to actually see it I can slip back into denial and pretend that it's all a big mistake. I want to run away from it and block it out. I want to go back to my room in the concrete block and be lectured by my roomie about the dangers of hanging out with Sam Trent and Professor Flanders.

'Why?' Yes it took me all that time to manage another word.

'Why did I do that? She was a bitch. You'd not have liked her Spence and she made it necessary. I can't live with a tart whose only need in life is to get me to screw her. You can understand that cant you? It'd be like you having to suddenly live with a sex mad JJ. I'm sure you'd crack under the pressure too.' I'm watching the bubbles in the shower tray turn from a reddish pink to clear. 'It was quick. If that's a concern of yours. She didn't feel it. I snapped her neck first then brought her up here. It's OK remember nothing here is real. She only exists to test us. I think I might have failed my first few tests mind, but I'll worry about that later.' Now he's wrapping a white fluffy towel around his waist and walking towards me as he carefully avoids treading in the mess he's made. 'Bedroom? If you don't want a shower that is.' And his hand is on my arm and he's leading me to the room across the hallway. 'You want me dressed or like this? I was going to take you out for a drink to avoid her, but it's not necessary now.' I feel the bed on the back of my legs and he's pushing me down to sit. 'Relax Spencer. Everything is under control. I think I'm going to erm… release some tension. We both need to relax a bit I think. I feel that if I don't put my mouth on you pretty soon I'm just going to stand here all night talking to you and I can think of so many other things we can do and as you can't talk back at me right now we can play. How does that sound to you, just nod your head.'

I don't get the chance to react in any way though he's pushing me back and his hands up unbuttoning my shirt and I just lay there and let him do it. I want to scream at him to stop. I want him to explain what the hell happened and how he could do such a thing. I thought we were meant to be keeping a low profile! What the hell was he thinking of? Can't he just play the damned game and get us out of this mess? And his fingers are flicking at my nipples and moving down to my belt and still I don't even attempt to stop him. I think of where that mouth has been. I think of what he was doing and I don't want to smell that on his breath. I finally put my hands on his chest and start to push him away. This isn't turning me on. I just want him away from me.

'What?'

He does actually move back from me and removes his hands but he's looking at mine which are pressing against his warm just soaped skin.

'Teeth.' I manage to tell him.

'You want me to go brush my teeth? Does my breath smell? Fine if that'll make you happy I'll go brush and floss and do whatever I need to make you happy, but don't you just lay there Babes. Get stripped for me. I need you and don't want to waste time here having to get your damned cords off you.'

He moves right away now and turns and walks from the room. I could run. I could get out and go back to where I'm meant to be. I could go and find Sam and tell him what's going on, but I hear the water running into the washbasin and I hear the sound of teeth being brushed and I'm not running. I'm sitting up on the bed now sliding my cords down my legs. I don't want this. I don't want to be doing this so I don't really know why I am. Habit I think. That's the only reason I can think I am doing what he tells me to do. Like I always do as he tells me to do. I can feel the adrenaline begin to build up and surge through my body. If I tried to run he'd bring me back. He'd force me to do what he wants. He's killed and he's eaten and now he wants his dessert and I'm going to provide that for him like I do over and over again. I don't want to end up like the thing in the bathtub and I know it's been a close call so many times before. I remain sitting on the edge of the bed and listen to him scrubbing the remains of this wife out of his mouth.

-o-o-o-

Spencer is such a damned prude sometimes. One day he's acting like a common whore and the next he's all up himself because I've done what I've done. And I've don't that because that's what I am. That's what I do. He needs to get over himself and realise that. I thought he'd be pleased that we're staying in. Hell I thought he'd love that I've actually taken off my clothes for once. It's a sign that I'm relaxed and happy. I'd normally fuck him with my kit still on. It's safer. Much safer. Taking my boots off to have him is a minor miracle, but being naked is virtually unheard of. Maybe that's the problem with him. I walk back to the bedroom with that lovely tingling feeling where the tingling feels its best and he's sitting looking like a week of wet weekends on the end of the bed. I know better though. I know he wants me. I guess Sonia just surprised him a bit. I could have warned him, or saved what I did for another day, but you know sometimes things just feel right. And it did and so I did and now I'm going to do it again. Firstly though I'm going to relax my Spence a bit.

'Lay back.' And I shove him back again so he's lying down. 'I'm all minty fresh for you now. No more complaints please.'

I work on him. I don't just move in and get what I want. I need to show him something first. I need to show him something good. Well let him feel it anyway. It's at times like this that I wish I had more than one pair of hands and more than one mouth. He might smell slightly but he tastes wonderful and he feels delicious. And it's very evident that he's enjoying this almost as much as I am. How the hell could Sonia even think she could compare to this? Stupid whore. I move my mouth over his chest and I can feel his fingers twisting around my wet hair and his hand pushing down slightly. He wants my mouth on him and so that's what I give him. For now at least. I treat him to every damned trick I've ever leant and by the way his fingers are now pulling at my hair and his body is bucking and squirming under me, he's enjoying every lick and lip massage I'm giving him.

I love those little noises he makes. He tries so hard to stay silent. Something he's always done since we played around when he was at college. He didn't want to be screaming out when we joined in the collage men's room. He didn't want to be howling in pleasure behind those trees down in the park, no he tried his damnedest to stay silent and it's sweet and wonderful and I slowly make my way back up his body and kiss and lick and nibble at him while my fingers explore where I'm going to go and play next. A lip bruising sucking nibbling hard kiss lets Spencer know that I don't taste of Sonia any more.

-o-o-o-

They start by kicking me in the groin which was for them probably a good idea and for me incapacitatingly horrific. I can move or breathe or scream or do anything but try to get my hands between my legs to see if they just split my balls and de-manned me in one fell kick. I want to roll onto my side but my hands are pulled away and out to my side and a foot stands down on each of them. I try screaming again. I try screaming for real and in my head, but I can't. I just open my mouth and realise that I'm not breathing so I can't scream. They don't talk. This is the weird thing about this shit. They don't say anything. They had it all planned for beginning to painful end and I don't know if the girl had anything to do with it or if that was co-incidence and I don't know if I'm going to be alive to ever ask her. A booted foot lands between my legs again and I try kicking out but my legs are behaving like idiots and just move oh so slightly. All thoughts of a night screwing are gone. Were they even ever really there? There are boots making contact with my sides now. Both sides at the same time and I think I'm taking in ragged breaths of something but I'm not sure it's air right now. It feels like it's razor blades I'm taking down into my lungs. One of the feet leaves my hand and I make a wild grab for the person but it's only very half heartedly and I don't make contact. They pull me over onto my front now and my clothes are being ripped from me. My jacket thrown to the side and my Tshirt, my wonderful Tshirt is being torn from me. Then suddenly the kicking stops. I can hear their breaths and I can hear my own and fuck only knows what they have planned for me but my hands are weighted down again by feet and someone is saying something to me.

'Who did that to your back?'

and I want to say _fuck you_ but I seem to be as wordless as Spencer is right now.

'I said who did that to your back?' And I'm prodded with a boot rather than kicked but I ignore them. I know what they're talking about. I know what they can see. The many white criss cross of scars all over my back. Hell they should remove my combat pants totally and get a good look at the back of my legs while they're at it. Maybe see the scars there too and what about the ones across my butt. I'm sure they'd interested and more than a little curious about that too.

'I'm talking to you Trent.'

'Just get it over with will you.' I mutter. 'Or are you the sort of kids who take delight in setting the cat on fire and cutting the tails off dogs? You more in to hurting than doing a proper job of something?' I should learn to keep my mouth shut. I really should cos they up their game and I'm plucked up off the floor by some muscle bound brainless fuck and thrown against the wall face first. My head smacks against a poster of some guy in a pair of jockey shorts and I slide to the floor with stars forming in front of my only eye and the rest of my clothing is ripped from me as the kicking resumes. Funny thing is though that they stick to kicking me in places that won't be seen. I feel ribs crack and I can feel my skin breaking under the onslaught, but they leave my head and face alone and I know that they're not going to kill me. I know it's a kids game of _Let's beat up the cripple _cos they want me looking whole. They don't want questions being asked and they know I'm not going to report this. At least they think I'm not going to report this. They also seem to want to keep me awake. They want me to feel every kick and punch and grinding of heels against me and when they think they've gone too far maybe then they stand back and someone checks my pulse and then they start again. It probably doesn't last as long as it feels it does. I know I was hurled against the wall a few times and after the first they seemed to be more careful about what part of me hit the wall first. They also threw me so my back hit the wall first and not my face.

It does all go dark eventually. I feel them lift me and I feel I am flying through the air again and I feel the back of my head smack on the wall and yes things go dark...and then those hands touching my neck and chest feeling for my breaths and for my heart.

'You fuck with us and this is what you get Trent. Tell Flanders to back off or the Mop Boy will be next. You understand you dirty little brain freak?'

I don't bother answering them. I don't bother curling up to try to defend myself I lay on my front and stare at the dirty carpet on my floor and mutter something else at them.

'What did you say?' I can smell foul breath as someone leans in close.

'I said…you're dead. All of you. You're fucking dead. Kill me now you fuckwits or your precious little lives are forfeited. You fucked with the wrong person the day you fucked with me.' Oh I shouldn't have said that. It was really stupid but right now I'm in a big shitty world of pain and I want them to go away crapping their pants or kill me. One way or the other I want this to end, and I don't think they have the balls to complete what they started. 'You'll be scared of your shadows for the rest of your pitiful lives.' And then I think of something cool to complete it. 'I curse you in the name of my father who spawned me. You will die a slow and painful death.' Now all I need to do is tell dad and let him do the rest. If they finish me off or not he'll still get them. 'Stupid motherfuckers.' I think is the last thing I say before I get a boot in my ear and they send me to sleep for a little while.

-o-o-o-

It's the weekend it would seem. I've lain here awake as Spencer sleeps and waited patiently for the morning. It's not too much of a struggle to just stay right here. He smells sweetly of sweat and that wonderful after sex body odour sends me into a state of never wanting to have to move again. But I can hear birds singing now and he's stirring and making those _I'm just about to wake up_ sounds he makes. Strangely it was a night spent without nightmares. I thought he'd have some sort of flashback to when he was pummelled half to death in a bathtub – not by me I'd like to remind you – actually maybe not even in this life time, but I remember it. I remember every damned thing. No matter. Things move on. Things change. There's nothing I can do to stop it. I've tried. I've turned back the clock a bit a few times with the help of Sam, but I still remember. I move my hands away from him and roll onto my back. I have a weekend to get rid of the thing in the bathtub. That's plenty of time really. I just need the tools to do it and I'm sure that knowing me there will be the things I need right here in the house.

'Morning.' Spencer has rolled over onto his back too and's pulled the bedding up nearly to his chin.

'Breakfast?' I ask him and he gives a small smile.

'Coffee would be good. Thanks.' Then the look on his face changes. 'Oh god. Floyd.'

'Don't worry about the thing in the bath. I'll have that sorted. Seems I've fucked your brains back in order again though. Well done. A full sentence.'

He slides off the bed now and starts to gather up his clothes. 'I thought I dreamed it. What the hell did you do that for? Why? What're you going to do? People will ask questions. Her friends and family. Christ Floyd…couldn't you have kept your temper for one night at least?'

He pisses me off so quickly. One minute he's all I want and all I'll ever want and the next I want to smash his stupid selfish skull through the wall. 'Get dressed and get out. Don't let anyone see you. I don't want people knowing you were here all night. And think of something to tell your buddies, that's if you have any.' I pull on a pair of scruffy blue jeans and a Tshirt which looks like it's seen many years of faithful wearing. 'Get out before you join the witch and don't even hint that you were here last night. Say you went to see a prostitute or something, you smell of sex, they'll know.'

He's got on his clothes now. Spencer can dress with such speed that it often amazes me. He's had a lot of practice though I suppose.

'I'm not concerned about excuses for me. I'm bothered about what you're going to do with your wife.'

'Ex-wife. I think it would be more apt. I'll get rid of her. Best you don't know how.'

'And that's meant to make me feel better?' He's got his boots on and is walking towards the door in that _I got buggered until I screamed _way that he does sometimes the night after. I'll go and check up on Sam I think.'

Sam…something's not right there. He said he had a date? I try to tune in but there's nothing there. 'Spencer…he had a date. I'd leave it for now. Give him time to recover.'

'Do you need any help with the body?'

He's asked a good question. Yes I could do with help here. I could really do with someone to keep an eye on things and keep the place looking like someone is living here but Spencer isn't the person for that job. I don't want too many people knowing Spencer was here all night. Things will be said. I'm not bothered about me, after all I have a wife and a bit on the side, but I don't want Spencer getting smacked around because of it.

'I don't need any help. As I said, I'd rather you don't know what I'm going to do. You know? I don't want you saying something and if you don't know then you can't.'

He gives me a nod. 'I can't quite believe I actually asked you in the first place.' His hands are shaking slightly and he really does look a fine mess. One I'd love to bed again, but I don't have time.

'Get going Spencer. You're making me want to rip your clothes off you and hammer you against the wall without mercy and I really don't have time. Go…please just go. I'll come find you when the coast is clear. I'll get a message to you or call. It's not often that I wish I had a cell phone. But it'd be handy right now. Go! Get out!' And I'm having to give him a friendly push out of the bedroom door and towards the stairs.

'I'd go quicker if you didn't keep talking to me. You think I should avoid Sam?'

'I think you need to resume your silence as you did before and I think for now, until I've worked out what's going on, you should indeed avoid Sam. Go.' Now at least he's going down the stairs. He stands by the front door for a while and then looks back up at me as I sit down on the top step and try to decide what to do first. 'Floyd?'

'Yes Babes.'

'Thank you.'

And he's through the door and gone.

I spend the next half an hour in search of plastic sheeting and knives and a saw. It's not going to take long. When you've done this sort of thing a few times, actually more than a few, it gets easier. You know where to cut. You know the best angles and you know how to do it without making too much of a mess. I have her in serviceable chunks within the hour. A good job done. Now what the fuck to do with the pile of bits? Dump in the woods? Throw in the river? Put on a fire somewhere? I'm not sure.

-o-o-o-

I'm not going to let them think they won this round even if they did. I'm going to get out there and do what Sam does best. I'm going to annoy the arse off of them by lack of reaction to the whumping I got. I crawl around the room by dragging my legs behind me and digging my elbows into the carpet thing which covers the floor. There is blood dried onto it in places but what the hell…I'm OK…I survived. I drag my combat pants back on and there's another Tshirt lying in a smell muddle on the floor. They destroyed my other one so I slide this over my head. It's a faded black thing with the words _Fuck Me!_ written across it. Slightly amusing, but not that much really. I locate my leg braces and spend the next half out or so trying to figure out how to get them back on again. This game would be oh so much easier if I knew what the fuck was going on. I'm in pain. I thought I should tell you that. My ribs have black and purple bruises all over them. My hands feel like they've been crushed and my fingers are being sluggish to do what I ask them. My groin is one big throbbing ball of agony and I do seriously wonder if they did me permanent damage from hitting me as hard as they did. I know they made me bleed and I'm expecting to be pissing blood too, but I'm not going to report this. And they fucking well know I won't report this too. I do want to ask that girl what the hell she was doing. Well I know what she was doing, but I want to know why she had to play that silly game with me first. I'm going to keep my cool. I'm not going to show I'm upset or pissed off and to be frank I'm not going to be screwing anything for a while now. The very thought of it sends shivers down my spine. Well part way down it anyway. Leather jacket goes on next and I reach out and grab the crutches. I'd like to have a piss, but I'm going to wait. I think I'd just collapse with the pain of it right now and I don't want to be found dead and drowned in my own bloody piss with my head down the john. It will wait. It does occur to me that I might as well just piss in my combats…they're encrusted and filthy as it is and it'd not really make that much of a difference. I'm a filthy stinking little shit. That's for sure.

It hurts getting into a standing position and now I realise that I've not put my boots on and I stand there staring down at them in the corner where they'd been thrown last night. I think about giving dad a mental buzz, but that's not being independent. I might look like I'm nineteen or something but if you've not actually lived those extra years you don't have the experiences to make you mentally mature now do you? So don't look at me like that for wanting my dad. Deep down inside I'm still only ten and this is one great big mind fuck and sometimes it's hard to control my feelings and my temper and I want so much to just go back to the clan. I've made it to the door and I'm looking down at my feet again. I've painted my toe nails. Really I should go and put my boots on but the thought of getting back down on my arse then hauling myself up again to stand is all too much. I do locate my glasses though before I leave and there I go in a lurching painfully slow swing walk move down the corridor.

'Sam?' A voice. Not one I know so I ignore it. 'Sam! Are you OK?' So I stop and turn slightly and lean on the wall and try not to put too much weight on my legs cos that hurts my balls, but taking all the weight on my crutches hurts my ribs and I start a bubbly cough and spit a bloody lump onto the floor. 'Damn you look like death warmed up.' This guy is shorter than me and chubby and has different sized eyes. I give him a look and decide that he's probably a mutie.

'I _am_ death warmed up.' I tell him and give him a small side smile.

'You should go to the infirmary. Honestly Sam you look like you have the plague. I shouldn't even be talking to you! Are you going to infect me?' He looks suddenly panicked.

'I'd strongly advise that you keep away from me, sorry I forgot your name.'

'Howard.'

I nod again. 'Howard I'm not a good person to be seen talking to.' I was going to say more. I was going to tell him that I'm not infectious, but maybe I am? I dunno anymore. He moves away quickly though, glancing hurriedly around himself to make sure he'd not been seen talking to me and then he's gone. Wonderful. I move away from the wall again and carefully and slowly resume my lurch to the lunch hall where I'm hoping I'll see Spencer again. Not that I'm going to tell him what happened. I'm going to sort this out myself. I had considered telling dad, but no, I won't, I'll kill the bastards myself. I just have to figure a way to do it which won't get me caught. I'll think of something. Something which involves trip wires and satchel charges and exploding heads would be nice. Or something like Spencer trod on and nearly lost his balls to. Or maybe poison. I'll think of something. I'll sort this out myself and in the mean time I'm going to keep away from both of them. I don't want them to know about this until I have sorted it myself. I'm tired of running…or lurching as is the case for now, for help.

There seems to be a common room. It's marked on the map of "here you are" and "where you should be" and so I follow the lines on the map with my finger and locate the common room. It's further away then the lunch room, but maybe the seating will be more comfortable cos I think I'm going to need something padded to sit on today. I make it all the way there and no one talks to me and I don't catch anyone's eye. I don't think I do anyway. I keep my head down and I just keep going. It's a strange world and quite an enlightening one where people will shun you because of a disability, but then again I'm living in this place where some kids are called muties and so maybe there's a reason to keep away from the kids who don't quite fit in for one reason or another. I was earlier thinking that I'd talk to that girl and see why she did what she did, but now I'm standing in the common room door and everyone is staring at me I think maybe I'll not ask questions; I'll just keep to myself and ignore the world.

'What are you doing here Trent? We told you we don't want you in here stinking the place up.' I don't know who this person is and I don't think he was there last night and I don't really care if he was or not, I can see comfortable seating and I'm going to take full advantage of it. I give this person just a cursory glance and then keep going. I have my target in my vision, though my glasses have the annoying habit of steaming up and I'm going to fucking well sit on that chair if it's the last thing I do. I'm nearly there. I am within sniffing distance and the guy who spoke earlier walks in front of me and reaches out touching me on the shoulder with his finger tips.

'Trent. I told you. We put it to a vote. Until you clean up and at least wash you're not coming in here. We have to damned well de-fumigate the place after you've been here.'

I look at the fingers and he knows I can't knock them out of the way. He knows just a small push will have me sitting on my butt and he equally knows that I don't want that to happen.

'I just want to fucking sit down for the love of the gods.' I hiss at him hopefully so the rest of the room which has fallen into a strange silence doesn't hear. 'Just let me rest. Do you know how damned tiring it is lugging my body around with me like this wherever I go? Do you know how hard it is to shower when you can't fucking well stand up? Do you know how easy it is to drown in a tub when you don't have the ability to sit un-aided half the damned time? You have no clue do you? I'm going to sit. I'm going to sit in that chair and if you don't like it get used to it.'

'You misunderstood me. Get the hell out of here. Stick to your own kind. Stay in your room, I don't care, but you're not coming in here.'

I can't move forwards and I'm not going to retreat so I just stand there for a while until he makes his move. And I know it's coming and I know it's going to hurt again, but what to do? Let them batter you mentally or physically? I feel the hands on my shoulders and I'm being dragged back out of the room. There is still silence. There are no darts being thrown. There are no pool balls knocking against cues and there's no one shouting out for another card. There's just this horrible silence with the sounds of breathing. They don't slap me around. They just drag me out and throw me to the floor and chuck my crutches at me.

'Stick to your own kind.' I am told.

I want to thank them for the warm welcome. I want to tell them where to stick their common room. I want to tell them where I'm planning on sticking my crutches, but I don't. I stay on the floor and watch the common room door slam shut. Then someone reappears and looks at me for a short while and sticks a note on the door.

"NO MUTIES OR CRIPS"

Very clear I'd say. Slowly I make my way back to my room. I don't want lunch. I don't have cash to buy anything to eat anyway. I don't want to be around people. I want to go and lie on my dirty stained mattress and comfort myself the best I can.

-o-o-o-

'Oh my God!' someone exclaims as I walk back in the door of my room in the concrete block. 'I thought they'd got you.' And my roomie is standing up and walking quickly towards me. 'You are so lucky they didn't do room checks last night. You have no idea how lucky you are! Where the hell have you been? I thought you'd be splattered over the woods or be found hanging from a tree somewhere. Oh lordy you didn't go to that cripple Trent did you?'

'I'm fine.' I tell him. 'Just tired but I'm fine. No I didn't go to see Trent. Why would I do that?'

I have to think where I've been though!

'Well where were you then? Damn, you're on duty in half an hour! I really thought you weren't coming back again.'

'Duty?' A dumb question. A dumb thing to say.

'Yes you freaking moron!...Oh my god! You're talking!'

And I realise I've made a very big mistake. I just have to hope that this guy keeps this to himself. 'I spent the night in the woods. I just had to get away from this place. Yes I can talk. It's just living here, well not here with you, but in this place, it messes with my head.'

'In the woods?!' Are you completely insane?!'

'Likely I am. I slept though. I'm OK. Everything is OK…just keep my vocal recovery to yourself please. Too many questions will be asked and I really don't want to answer them.'

I look around for a change of clothing but I don't seem to have any. There also doesn't seem to be washing facilities here. No wonder I stink and it's probably a good idea that I didn't shower at Floyd's place. It'd take a lot of explaining coming home from a night in the woods smelling of some manly bubble lotion or such. As it is I'm concerned that I smell of Flanders. Not that it's a bad smell. Indeed it's a lovely smell, but I don't want this roomie to ask who I smell of. I especially don't want him to recognise eau de Flanders.

My job it seems is to just stand in the lunch hall and mop up spillages. This morning there seems to be a lot of it. Orange juice and porridge seem to be making their ways to the floor in surprisingly huge amounts. I ignore them. I don't talk to anyone. I do my job and keep my head down. I listen though. Yes I listen very carefully. I do remember not to talk though. Not even a stutter today. I'm also looking out for Sam, but I don't see him and this is sort of worrying. I've not seen him and I'm sure Floyd hasn't either since yesterday later afternoon. I could go and look for him once my duty is over but Floyd told me not to. Then again why am I taking notice of what Floyd is telling me to do? How is that wonderful role model actually spending his Saturday?

* * *


	27. Cleaning

Part twenty-seven: Cleaning

* * *

I am aware that I have to check up with the gang. I need to know what's going on in their part of the world we are in. I have to know what we are meant to be doing here. I think, I'm really wondering when the crap is going to start. And I stare down into the bathtub and realise that maybe it already has. I've stripped off for the job, well down to a pair of boxer shorts anyway and I'm a tad bloodied, but the main part, the messy part of the job is done. Lovely Sonia is wrapped up in quite a few separate bits. She's secure and not dripping. I've used plastic wrap for some of it and bin bags and other plastic bag things for other bits. They will if this place has the forensics to tell, and I'm not going to even start to believe that they haven't, who this is unless I do something drastic and drastic measures though are often called for. I'm going to dump her in several places. A fire, a river, dropped off a bridge onto fast moving traffic…you know the sort of thing. Maybe, just maybe they won't be able to figure out who it is. But they will. I know that. I'm just trying to sooth my mind a bit because sometimes even I mess up. A couple of bits I sliced and put in a container in the fridge. I'll cook up something nice later and likely eat alone. I don't want Spencer involved in this. Though he already is.

I need to take a walk and get some air in my lungs and have a nice long smoke outside and so another very quick shower and I slip back into the jeans and Tshirt I had on earlier. Now I have all the bits prepared I have to think about how I'm going to transport them. I don't know if I have a vehicle and a quick search hasn't revealed any keys except for the one I had in my pocket in the first place. Front door key I assume. I didn't actually have to use it. Running back down the stairs I go and pull back the curtains and let in the light. Then go to the kitchen and put the blinds back up. The burnt food is still in a pan on the cooker. I'll get rid of that later. For now it gives off a nice covering smell.

Just as I think to make myself a coffee someone is hammering on my door. Spencer. It has to be Spencer. Sam wouldn't come here. I'm sure of that much at least. I get out another mug and walk to the door. I did tell him not to come here. I'm going to have to remind him. Opening the door though wipes the smile off my face. It's a woman. Another damned woman. I've never met so many fucking women in such a short space of time before. She's smiling and pushing me back out of the way and letting herself in and I have no damned idea who the hell she is.

'Where's Sonia?' She asks as she walks to the cabinet and pulls out a tumbler with what looks to be whiskey in it.

'Out.'

'Well her car's still there, so where did she go?'

I scratch at my neck and close the door and walk over to the woman. 'I was just making coffee.'

'Where the hell is Sonia? We were meant to meet up this morning and once again she's a no show.'

I give her a shrug and a few words. 'She was out when I got home yesterday. It's a bit early for that don't you think?' I take the drink away from her. 'Coffee?'

'For the love of the gods Floyd, you know I don't drink coffee. Are you saying she didn't come home last night?'

'Unless she snuck in and out again without telling me. Tea?' I put the alcohol away.

'Tea? You going to offer me a little cake?'

And that makes me laugh. Actually it makes me really laugh. 'No, no, not cake.' I say and take a few steps back from her. 'Just don't drink that shit this early in the day.'

'Well Floyd, I'll have a cup of tea. You are always such a gent. Have you tried calling anyone to see where she is?'

I walk to the kitchen and have a quick search for tea and find some in the first place I look which is good as this person is standing watching me. I don't get called "a gent" very often. It's amused me and my grin seems to have got stuck on my face.

'What's so funny? You should be out of your mind with worry.' Her voice is serious. I boil water and add tea to the pot and turn to her.

'We've not been getting on recently. I expect you know.' She nods at me. 'I think there's someone else she's been seeing. It's not the first time she's been out all night. I just keep it between the two of us usually. Thing is though…' I add the water to the tea. '…I'm happy for her. If she's not happy with me then I want her to find someone she is happy with. You understand me don't you?' She walks over to me and puts a hand on my arm.

'I'm sorry Floyd. Yes I know there's been problems, there is with every partnership these days. People are just not happy. Things are so dangerous and scary. She should stick with what she knows is safe. Frolicking around with strangers is where the danger is. At least she knows you're safe.' And she plants a kiss on my cheek.

There is a strange feeling in my stomach…or is it my soul. An odd feeling which I think might be guilt. I don't know though. Maybe it's food poisoning. Either way though I think how these people consider me a safe person. A nice person and it's not me. That's not what I am.

'There's that other business though.' She suddenly says. I pour out the tea and slide a cup and saucer towards her.

'What other business?' I pick up my tea and blow across the surface.

'Well those boys you've been with.' And I nearly drop my cup on the floor?

'The what?' I quickly put the cup down on the counter before my shaking hands show her the panic which is crawling through my belly.

'The mop boy and that freak Trent. Everyone knows that you intervened in a fight in the lunch room. You shouldn't do that. You'll get hurt.' Her hand is on the side of my face now and her face looks at me with deep concern in those blue eyes. Too blue. I think they're contacts.

'Ah…Well I could hardly stand back and see that happening now could I?'

'I know, I know what you mean Floyd, but you'll get hurt. They are such a rough crowd and you're such a sensitive guy. Don't get pulled in by it.' She finally and thankfully moves back away from me and takes her drink of tea to the lounge where she sits down and makes herself comfortable. 'And well, I know how you get attached to your students and all, but that Trent boy he's not one of yours. You don't have to be there for him you know. And yes we've talked about this before and I know that Sonia thinks differently but I'm with you on this one. Really I am.'

I sit down on an arm chair and put my slightly shaking cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. I slide a coaster over towards my house guest in case she thinks about putting her cup down. One of my pet hates is when people don't use a coaster. 'You're with me?'

'Oh come on Floyd you know what I mean. Some of those boys have never had a family. They grew up in orphanages and encampments. Kids like Trent. They never stood a chance, but you can't waltz in and be there for all of them and he'll get what he wants in the end. They all do. Even the mop boy. I mean they do want it don't they? That's what they say anyway. You never see a mutie or a crip or a guy like that mop boy over the age of thirty. Not many over the age of twenty to be sure! That guy Spencer has had a fair good run in. They'll make an offer he can't refuse pretty soon I'd think, but kids like Trent, well they don't get a choice do they? That's not what they say anyway.'

'Don't let me stop you talking. Keep going.' I tell her as I listen and sip my tea. I have to be so careful. I cannot ask the wrong question. I just have to hope that missy mouth over there on my couch will tell me all I need to know. Well all I need to know for now at least.

'Between you and me Floyd I think they should be put down at birth. It's much kinder don't you think? Why let a mutie live until he's twenty and then persuade him that life's not worth living and death is a kinder way. A better way…what do they say on the ads? "Euthanasia…the kinder, better option." But kinder and better for who? And they take all your money too! Have you seen the prices of those things? They're so expensive and I don't think most of those kids have a brass penny to rub together. They just tell them.. "Times up kiddo, time to die" and then drown them like an unwanted kitten. I can't see that's kind can you Floyd? Then they take all their stuff. They sell off their belongings and move onto the next poor mutie.'

I think I might be lost for words. I think I'm in the throws of a small panic. I can feel the sweat breaking out on my brow and there's no way in hell I'll be able to pick up that cup and not spray the room with tea. I send a quick message over…

_Sam? Where the fuck are you?_

But I'm not expecting anything back from him. Something has happened and I have to get over to him before it gets worse. I know he's not dead. I'd feel that. He's part of me of course I'd feel that.

'You don't look very well.' She's saying now. 'You've suddenly gone really pale.'

'I'll be fine.' But my voice has a strange distant sound to it. 'I'm just worried about Sonia I guess.' I lie. 'You'll let me know if you hear from her wont you?' Though I know she won't so no problem there. I know now though, I think I know what we're up against. Or at least what I'm going to have to fight and what Spence and Sam are going to have to be very cautious about. I have to make contact with them. I'm staring at the cup on the table and vaguely see this woman stand.

'I need to use the bathroom.' She's saying and walking away towards the stairs. And if she goes up there I'm going to have to kill her and I don't want that. I've no problem with this person. She's actually a good source of information.

'No…no don't. I just cleaned it.' I blurt out and she giggles.

'I thought as much. I can smell the bleach. You are a card Floyd. You and your funny obsession with the bathroom.'

I give her a small smirk. 'Well we're not all perfect, however good we look in the mirror.' And she's laughing again.

'I'll use the downstairs washroom. Don't worry!' And giggling she walks to the kitchen and opens a door which I thought lead to a pantry or maybe to a cellar and she's through the door and closing it behind her.

'Thank fuck.' I whisper and start pacing the room.

_Sam! Wake the fuck up. _

But still nothing and that's really bothering me. I try something else.

_Spence? Go find Sam. Something's wrong._

-o-o-o-

I've spent my day trying to fill my head with things other than a mop and bucket. I don't seem to have a name here. I am simply Mop Boy. That's OK. It sort of makes it feel less like it's me having to do this. I'm not displeased with this job, I mean someone does have to do it and this is only temporary, unlike these other people who seem to be living this nightmare quite happily. OK not happy so much as a sort of resignation. I've been looking out for Sam. Not that I'm going to go chat with him, but because I just want that security that I'm not in this alone. Seeing him there would ground me a bit I think, but I've not seen him. There is a slight niggling worry in my head by the time the lunch is over and things are getting cleared up and readied for the evening meal. I'm called over to the counter and I swap my bucket and mop for a bottle of squirty disinfectant and a damp cloth. I must look at them blankly for a bit because a prod on my shoulder and the words.

'Get the damned tables cleaned.'

Wakes me up. I turn and look at the mess left behind and get to work. I'm figuring that the faster I do this the faster I can get away but I hate dirty tables and I hate mess and this is taking far longer than I anticipated.

_Spence? Go find Sam. Something's wrong._

Goes through my head with such force that I have to sit down. My head is spinning and my eyes are watering. I place the bottle and the mucky cloth down on the table and stand and turn to look at the door.

_I don't know where he is_

I call back, but it seems there's no reception again now. Damn him. Why do I have to go look for Sam? I thought I was meant to be avoiding him. Is that not what Floyd told me to do? I leave my cleaning things behind and walk out of the room. If anyone calls me back I don't hear them and I'm not in the position to be able to argue with them. I'm not able really to ask anyone if they know where Sam is either. I'm going to have to figure out where he is on my own.

_I need a bit of help…._

But still there is nothing there. I decide that my best idea is to go to my only known ally and ask my roomie if he knows where Sam would be. It's a risk and not one I'd want to take normally, but I'm stumped and getting more worried about things. I walk down the corridor and out of a side exit and down the path back to my block. Once in my room I sit on the bed and look over at him sitting there staring at his magazine again.

'I need to ask you a favour.' I say quietly. I don't want outsiders to hear us talking. He puts the magazine to one side and leans back on the wall behind his bed.

'Ask away. I'll tell you if I'm willing to help.' His arms are folded and that friendly look he had on his face earlier has gone. He looks now like I'm just an annoyance or maybe someone who is a danger.

'I need to find Sam Trent. I don't know where his room is.'

The guy nods and he scratches his head. 'Before I answer, can I ask if you've always had such a bad memory or if it's something you've been working on?'

'Please. If I knew I'd not be asking you. I don't know who else to ask.'

'And why would the mop boy be looking for Trent? You've taken no notice of what I said earlier?' He leans forward. 'I can tell you _again _where his room is Spencer, but you'll best not tell anyone I said. And if you find him still there you're going to be lucky. He's on a slippery slope downwards and once you reach that far down there's no way back. You get made your offer and you take it. No options left. So go to your little friend, but be very careful Spencer. You'll be next.'

I rub at my eyes with my finger tips and sigh. 'I have no idea what you're going on about.' I tell him.

'I know you don't Spencer and that's why you'll be next…or if not next, it's going to be pretty soon. All the time you stay inconspicuous it's fine, but they'll be noticing you if you carry on asking questions and doing strange things and man, you've been doing a hell of a lot of strange things lately. Like example what the hell are you doing here this time of day? Are you not meant to be in the hall cleaning the tables?'

'Just Trent's location.' I give him a hard look. 'I need to see him about something…before it's too late.'

And I get another hard look. 'You're not one of their damned spies are you? Like undercover? Look I'm just trying to help, I'm not a danger. I'm average intelligence which is why I don't have to work at weekends; I can prove it! Geez Spence, is that what's going on?'

I don't answer his question. 'Where is _Trent!'_ And this time I don't keep my voice down. He's jumping to his feet and flapping his hands in front of him in a motion to tell me to be quiet.

'I liked you better when you didn't talk you know.' But he tells me where to find Sam.

'Thanks.' I snap at him as I leave the room again and walk back towards the main building. I have rough directions now and will be able to find what my roomie so nicely called "The Crips Block."

I am aware as soon as I walk through the doorway which will lead me to where Sam's block is that I am being watched. It feels as though eyes are crawling over my skin. I can feel them burning into the back of my head as I walk with my head down, trying to evade too much attention. Of course this is here and now and I don't make it all the way there without a hand reaching out and grabbing my arm.

'What are you doing down this end of the world Mop Boy?'

It's someone I've seen that day in the lunch room. When he smiles it seems as though he has far too many teeth for his mouth. Too many and much too large. I don't know how he could possibly talk or eat with all those teeth.

'I'm looking for someone.' I tell him and pull my arm away from his hand. Maybe I shouldn't have spoken? Too late now.

'Who you looking for Mop Boy?' His lips curl back away from his teeth as he talks and he drools thick green spittle down his chin. I almost reach out and wipe it away for him, but I stop myself.

'Trent, Sam Trent.'

And he laughs at me and sprays my face with his saliva. 'Room 101…You better hurry though. Trent's been here one day too many already.' He laughs again. 'If you know what I mean. The candy man will be around _real_ soon with an offer he can't refuse…then splish, splosh, splash.'

I try not to look confused, but it's alright cos he's turned away from me now and is pointing down the short corridor. 'Last room. Can't miss it. It's the one with the smell of death and decay coming out of it. Oh you here to clean his room for him? You're going to need more than a mop and bucket.' And he's walking away with a strange seesaw gait and a high pitched drooling laugh.

The room I enter isn't locked. I just push down a handle and walk in. The guy was right about the smell though. It's really quite bad. Eye wateringly bad actually. There's a dim light on but it hardly even reaches the shadows in the corner. As I step in the door slams behind me making it even darker and more claustrophobic. I look around but can't see anyone in here and it really is no wonder. I'd not be able to stay in here for any length of time.

'Sam?' I call out, but not too loudly. There's a door in one of the walls leading to what might be a bathroom, but there's no light coming from under the door. I walk to it feeling my booted feet sticking to the slightly tacky floor. The bathroom door has no handle on it or a lock by the looks of it. I suppose that they do this for invalids. It's easier for them maybe? I push open the door and it scraps on the floor as I do so and the hinges creak slightly. I can see a tub with a dirty tide mark around it and a toilet and a small washbasin. There is a shower attached to the wall above the bath but there is no sign of Sam. It doesn't look like this room has been used in a while. There is a layer of dust over everything. Even the toilet looks un-used. I step back and let the door swing closed and look around the room again. 'Sam!' I call out a bit louder this time and out of the corner of my eye I catch a small movement. Hardly anything at all and had I been looking directly at it I think I might have even missed it. I can just make out the bundle of something in the corner and I walk over to it. The smell gets worse as I get closer. Something rotting. Something foul. I lick my lips and carefully pull the blanket away from what's in the corner and see Sam. He's curled up on his side. He's wearing just a pair of combat pants and his leg braces. He is covered in bruises and cuts and I think he's sleeping. With much caution I kneel down next to him. 'Sam, what the hell happened?' I get a waft of something mouldering and realise that the smell is coming directly from Sam.

'I don't feel so good. Leave me alone.' His voice is even more croaky and harsh than it was yesterday.

'I can't leave you like this. Let me help you. Wash you…see to those wounds.'

His horribly tattooed hand comes out and pushes me away. 'I said leave me alone Spencer.' I fall back and sit down on the carpet which feels slightly damp under my hand. God only knows what's made it so wet and I don't really want to think about it.

'I'm not leaving you in this state. We are in this mess together remember? And we are going to get out of it together.' I go back to a crouch and reach out for him, but he pulls back further. Almost like he wants to become part of the wall.

'You are leaving me. It's done. Just go. Tell dad I'll catch up with him later.'

The words have a horribly creepy sound to them when being whispered. 'What's done? What do you mean?'

'Please Spencer…Get out of here.' He grabs the cover and pulls it up over his head again. I could force him. I could drag him into the filthy bathroom and scrub him down, but… it would mean stripping him. It would mean…risk. I think that's really what it is that's stopping me. The risk that I'll get caught with a naked Sam. What will they do to me? I stand up and walk to the bathroom. Damnit. I don't care what they do to me, I'm not leaving Sam there to rot and that's what it smells like is going on there. I can't do it. I can't leave him. Let them accuse me of things I've probably done….maybe not with Sam, but certainly with his dad. I turn on the hot tap and with my hand try to wash the dirt out of the bath. There doesn't seem to be any soap in the room which isn't really too surprising. I run the cold too until I get the correct temperature and let it run while I go back to Sam. I don't bother talking to him. I'm not in the mood to argue. I just grab him by the ankles and pull him out straight. Then I start with the buckles on this nasty contraption on his legs.

'Just leave me Spencer.' He mutters, but there's no strength in his voice. I drag one of the things off and the second one is easier to deal with because now I know where the straps are and which ones I need to undo to get the thing off him. He struggles briefly when I start to pull off his combat pants but it doesn't last long. He gives out a sigh and just lies there and lets me strip him.

'Who did this?' I think I have a good idea but looking down on him even in this dim light I can see the damage that's been inflicted. 'Who the hell did this?' But he doesn't answer. He closes his one eye and mutters something about never being able to _fuck_ again. I'm going to have to touch him, lift him and put him in the warm water and I think it's going to hurt him and get me a bit messy, but this is Floyd's boy and I'm not going to let him down – either of them. Floyd sent me here to help him and so that's what I'm going to do. I decide, against my better judgement to remove my shirt so it doesn't get more messy or wet than it already is. He's taller than he was; if that makes sense…he seems to have grown but he's still a lot shorter and I am and horribly light. There is a small vocal resistance when I lean down and pick him up.

'Stop it Spencer.'

But of course I don't. I take him to the bathroom, being careful not to smack his head on the door frame. I manage some how to check the water isn't too hot before I lower him down into it. In the slightly brighter light of the bathroom I can see more of the damage and it makes a knot of rage twist in my stomach. 'Sam…' I start, but he stops me.

'Just leave me to soak will you? I don't need you staring at me.'

'It's not the first time I've seen you naked Sam, probably not the last.' I look around for a cloth to start wiping off some of the mess.

'Yeah, but that was before.'

'Before you were unable to fight back?'

'I think so…aye…you're right. I feel too vulnerable Spencer. I don't want you looking at me.'

'I'm just going to wash you down with my hand. There doesn't seem to be anything to wash with here.'

He's gripping hold of the edge of the bath with a vice like grip. He's scared. I've seen him scared before. A kid. A scared kid, but before he's had bravado and he's put up a wall and tried to make it look like nothing can touch him. Now he's different. This is a different person. Floyd needs to be here. I try to get a message to him. I concentrate on it for a few minutes as I wipe my hand over Sam's battered chest, but nothing happens. He's not available. Damn him! This is his boy. He should be here doing this not me!

'I'm not going to bother with your hair.' I'm looking at those hands still holding on for grim death. 'You want out of there? I think I've wiped off as much as I can.'

'No, don't worry. Leave me.'

I smile at him and reach down to slip my hands under his shoulders.

'I said leave me! Don't you fucking listen? Just leave me alone damn you! I don't want your help or your sympathy. I want to be alone. Fuck off Spencer. Just leave me alone.'

I step back from him and give him a quick nod. 'Leave you so you can drown in the tub? I think your dad will be very happy with that. I'm going to get you out again and find something clean for you to wear. You can't put those dirty clothes back on again.'

'Spencer, I'm in pain and it's not getting any better. It should do. I should be able to heal and it's not working. I just want to be left alone OK? Turn around and walk away. I don't want clean clothes. I don't want anything but to be here, right here, on my own.'

I'm not going to leave him. Even if he wasn't who he was I'd not leave him. I'd not leave anyone in a tub of water when they were in this frame of mind. I reach down again ignoring his protests and pull him out of the tub. His hands make a strange squeaking nose as they are pulled away from the edge of the tub.

-o-o-o-

I have to get rid of the body parts I've still got stored in bags in the bathroom. I have to go and see what the hell is going on with Sam and Spencer. I have to get rid of this woman…but I have more questions, so many more questions to ask her and I don't quite know how to go about asking them. She's back again and sitting down in front of her cup of tea. There's a short silence, but strangely it's not uncomfortable – hell this sounds like I'm on some kind of twisted date with my dead wife's friend.

'Do you think it's true about why they keep the muties so long?' She's not looking at me. She's looking up at a painting hanging on the wall. It's of a forest and it looks slightly familiar.

'I'm not sure about that.' Actually I have no fucking clue what she's talking about.

'I mean if the world is being virtually run by the ones they choose then it's not really a surprise it's such a mess is it?' Now she's looking at me.

'Not really much of a surprise at all.'

Her blue eyes are boring into me like an ice pick. It almost feels like she's trying to read my mind. She drains her cup and stands. 'Well I'd better get going. Tell Sonia to give me a call when she comes back. And Floyd?....' I stand too and look down at her cup which is not on a saucer let alone on a damned coaster. I want to reach over and move it but I think if I do that I might ram the damned thing down her neck. 'You should do something about the smell. Open some windows or something, there's a really strange smell in there today.'

'It's Sonia's lovely cooking.' I tell her, but my eyes are still fixed on the cup on the table.

She lets out a small laugh and walks towards the door. 'It smells like something died in here. Really it's gross.' And now she's opening the door. 'I'll catch up with you later.' And she's back in the room again and the fucking door is closed once again. 'Can I ask you something personal?'

'Not too personal I hope?' Still eyes are fixed on the cup.

'If she's found someone else…you know? If she's that stupid that she doesn't know a good thing; well I'm still single.' I look over to her and see that her cheeks have gone a bright red. She's propositioning me?

'These are dangerous times. I'm not sure what's going on. I think, maybe I need time. Whatever's going on. I need time.'

'But….'

'I'll take it into consideration. Sure I will.' And I smile at her and then look back at the cup and if she thinks for one second that I'd swap the butchered mess in the bathroom for someone who can't use a fucking coaster then she can damned well think again. This time she doesn't talk back. She just turns her back and leaves. The door slams behind her and I pounce on the bloody cup and remove it form the wooden surface. There's a wet circle there now which I wipe away with my hand.

'Damn you woman.' I mutter. Now I have to go and find something to clean the table with. And I know it won't stop there. I'm going to have to clean the whole fucking room now and I don't have time for this shit, but I can't leave it like this either. I don't like that she can smell my wife upstairs. I don't like that she knows things. I don't like that she is watching me and wanting me. I don't like much at all right now. Rummaging in cupboards reveals dusters and polish. I slap the crockery in the dishwasher and take the cleaning stuff back to the lounge. Why cant people use coasters? Why can't they just do that one damned simple thing and make my life easier? It doesn't take me long to clean it again, not really…not in the grand scheme of things, but that's not the point. It's a distraction and now I need to find something to go over the floor with and clean the leather of the couch and maybe wash the walls down. 'Fuck this.' I stop with duster and polish in my hands and walk back to the kitchen which also needs cleaning. 'I'm going to be here for a fucking week dealing with this and I don't have the bloody time.' Actually, thinking about this again I'm not going to bother with body part disposal. I'm planning on getting the hell out of this place long before that's going to become a problem. The weather looks mild. The day has reached afternoon and I've not heard anything from Sam still and so fuck this place. Screw the bathroom and slightly annoyingly dusty wooden floor in here…very annoying actually. I seem to be on my hands and knees touching the floor and making plans I don't want to make about how to best deal with dust.

I'm going to find them.


	28. A Plan

Part twenty-eight: A Plan

* * *

I've made an executive decision to wear my beloved belt buckle. I don't know and I don't care what sort of reception it will get and really does it matter now? I think I know what's going on and again I'm in the position of having to protect them. It's my trial after all and not theirs. They are just playing pieces on the board I've been given and I need to draw out the enemy and give cover for my loved ones.

OK not loved ones. Maybe not. I've never really considered Spencer and Sam as "loved ones" as such. Not openly. I might desire them. I might well need them more than anything else, but love? That's a difficult one to answer. It's a difficult word to understand. You become so burdened with things that love, whatever that is becomes buried and, well it's just a strange concept to understand sometimes. I slip on a nice pair of low wasted black jeans and add a white shirt and a black waistcoat. It's double breasted. Just the kind I like. At least they've given me some things which feel right. Like that painting of the forest on the wall down stairs. I know that place. I've been there. It's there to remind me. Torment me too. I don't think I'll ever be going back there. I pull on my old boots and give myself a quick mirror inspection. What's the point though? I know I'm going to look good. Hell I even look good covered in muck and blood. It's a curse. I give myself a smile and transfer my smokes to my pocket and wonder about if I have a car or a bike and if so where the sodding keys are and how do I find the wretched thing once I have keys?

Walking is fine. Walking today is actually a nice thought. I've been in this over warm stinking house for too long. I need to get out and refresh my lungs and heart and then find the boys. There's trouble. I know that much. What I don't know is how much. I could open up and send Spencer or Sam a message, but this place is wrong and that's a vulnerability. I'm going to keep closed down and do this without my super wonderful mind talent. I slam the door behind me and start my walk back to the main building. They air is light and the gravel crunches happily under my feet. A slight pause as I pull out a smoke and my lighter.

'Good day Flanders!' Someone is calling out to me and so I turn to face where the voice is coming from.

'Good day.' I reply and light up and take a long deep drag of wonderfulness. He's probably another lecturer, but it's hard to tell. Maybe just a grounds man? I don't have a clue. I keep up my nice polite front though and give him a small smile and then I'm moving off again.

'Thought you'd keep a low profile today.' The bloke says again and this stops me and causes me to turn again to look at him. I'm not smiling now. I'm dragging harder on my smoke though.

'Maybe I should, but I have things to do you know?' I say, cos I have to say something and I don't know what!

'Bad things. I hate this time of year. I know it's done for a reason, but I don't like the cull.' He's got his hands in his pockets and he's looking at me very carefully. Why am I concerned about the way this stranger is looking at me when I was not concerned in the slightest that I butchered my wife? There's something _wrong_ about him. Something he's hiding. He's a shifty nosy bastard and I really don't want to talk to him.

'Well all things are done for a reason.' I say and take another drag then turn and leave. If he says more I don't know. I tune him out. I don't want complications where I don't need them. As I said to Spencer, none of this is real. All I have done here is avoid another playing piece on the board. That's all I've done. I walk quicker now. A cull? What the fuck are they culling? It's not deer in the park I know that much. I can feel it. Something in the air. Danger? Well I'm not fucking scared of a little danger now am I? Not usually anyway, so why does this make me want to turn and run back in door and sew Sonia back together and beg forgiveness? Fuck it. Damn this place. Damn every fucking thing.

I'm jogging. Well kind of jogging. I'm moving in that way Little River taught me. I'm moving fast and I spit my smoke out onto the ground and keep going. I need to be quick. Whatever this cull is and whatever this danger is it's happening now. Right now; and if I don't fucking move my arse and stop procrastinating and getting side tracked I'm going to be in check mate and I've not even moved my pieces yet.

There is a patch of grass in front of me and I'm just about to cross it when another voice calls my name. Not quite as loud this time. 'Floyd, I've been waiting for hours hoping to catch you.' It's the damned bint who say's I got her up the duff. I keep walking and try to ignore her. 'You've got to talk to me! We need to sort this out.' OK…I stop now and turn to face her.

'Sort out what?' I snap at her.

She walks quickly towards me but stops a couple of paces away. I thought for one horrible moment she was going to pounce on me. I'll quickly explain something to you now. Females; I don't have a huge aversion towards them. I'm happy to put my arms around any gender. I'm more than happy to talk to any gender. However, getting one pregnant? It's just not going to happen. Thought I would clarify that with you before we move on. Getting pounced on by one? I can deal with that, but not here. Not now.

'If you don't help me sort this out I will tell your wife.'

'No you won't.' Well that was simple. I turn from her and move off again.

'You said you loved me! You said you wanted me. Why are you being like this now?' She's marching close behind me now hissing in my ear. So again I stop and turn around to face her.

'Love you? I don't even remember your name. I hate to disappoint you, but I only love one person and that's myself and that's wearing pretty damned thin right now. So go away and sort out your problems with someone else before I slap you back into reality.'

'But you did this to me! You did this!'

She has got very big eyes. Almost too big. A bit creepy to be honest with you. I put a hand on each of her shoulders and look into those eyes. 'I have to tell you something.' I talk calmly to the freak girl. 'To get pregnant you need someone to put there dick in you and have sexual intercourse. It doesn't happen through wishful thinking.' I push her back away from me slightly and then off I go. One foot on the grass, the next ready to follow.

'I'll report you!' Now she's shouting.

'Go ahead you little slut. Go tell everyone that I fucked you. I don't think you'll earn yourself many brownie points by doing so.' And hurrah for that! I'm on the damned grass at last and walking away – at least I get a few foot onto the grass before the hand grabs hold of my arm and pulls to me to stop again.

'They are in there now. They are culling today. I'll tell them if you don't help me.'

OK she's got my attention again. Once more I turn to took at her. 'Culling today?'

'Of course! All I have to do is walk in there and tell them what you've done and you'll be as dead as the rest of the muties.'

Now I know I have to be quick. I need to hurry so why am I just standing looking at her? Why am I not racing towards the building wondering if I'm too late? Because I am hammering my fist through her face, that's why. I feel her jaw shatter and as I follow it up with an upper cut with my right hand it seems that her whole skull disintegrates. I stand looking at her flopped and very dead looking on the grass and wonder why I didn't do that a long time ago. I don't wonder if anyone is watching me. I don't care. I don't give a shit anymore. I wipe my bloodied hands on my jeans and wonder if she really was carrying my child and then I decide that I don't care if she was or not. I never impregnated her. Not voluntarily in any case. I'm at least running now. Running over that grass and now over a small dirt path and then back onto the grass and over to the building entrance in front of me. I can tell something has happened. I can feel it. It's like when you stand too close to high voltage electricity. There is almost a smell in the air. I stop short of the main doors. Someone is standing there preventing people from entering the building. A small crowd of scared smelling but morbidly curious people have gathered there. They all seem to be students judging by their age.

'Go away. You can't come in.' A bloke at the door is shouting at them.

'We want to know what's going on!' A youth shouts back. And I realise again that I am procrastinating. I'm using this as an excuse not to get in there and find who I need.

'You know what's going on. Unless you want to join them you'd best leave.'

Mumblings and mutterings are going through the small crowd and I am slowly, too slowly, pushing forward. The kids don't protest at my hands pulling them out of the way. They actually seem to give me a knowing nod or a wink, but that might be my imagination. They do however make room for me to move forward and that's really all I need. The guy at the top of the three steps leading to the main door is frowning at me. 'You can't come in here without a pass.' He's telling me and I'm pulling my hands out of my pockets and putting a smoke in my mouth and lighting up.

'I've got a pass.' I inform him.

'Let's see it then.' And his hand is out for me to place something in it. I have to move fast. I don't know how this crowd of kids are going to react to what I'm going to do to this thing. I'll say _thing_ because this is not really what it seems to be. It's more like it's one of me. I don't know if you get what I'm saying, but this thing belongs in Hades not here. I grab the hand proffered to me and pull him quickly forwards and off the steps. One hand on his neck and one grasping the side of his head and he's dead before he hits the floor. I have a want to bend down now and finish him off properly. I want to feel its heart in my hands I want to grind it under the heel of my boot, but I don't. I just watch as the kids scream and jump out of the way and stare at me with wide eyes.

'Go away.' I tell them. 'This is not the place for you to hang around. Go home. Go hide. Just get out of here.'

Some of the turn and start running and some stand and piss themselves with fear unable to do anything and as I move up and through the doors I sense that there are at least four of them following me.

There is a strange eerie silence in the corridor. It should be teaming with students, but it's quiet and wrong. Oh so very wrong. I stop and listen. I can hear a faint humming coming from somewhere. It's like the sound of a fridge or some other devise that needs power, but I know that's not what this is. It's the same thing that felt like the high voltage and it's the same thing making my nose tingle and letting me smell what seems to be burning. Electrical burning. I can hear the kids behind me. Their uneven scared but bullish breaths.

'Get out while you can.' I say quietly. Probably to the kids behind me. Maybe to myself. Perhaps to the ones I can smell and sense up ahead. 'Get out.' I say again. But the ragged breathing carries on behind me and I decide that I will take my posse and carry on. Safety in numbers. Maybe. The further down the corridor I walk the louder that humming noise becomes. An ear tingling buzzing and whistling and humming. I know what it is. It's the next line. It's the next place, but I can't go without Spence and Sam. I can't leave them here for the cull.

I do think rather highly of myself. I am obviously the only one who can possibly get Spencer and Sam out of here. It doesn't occur to me that they are capable of getting out themselves. Why would it? I've dragged and pushed them for so long now that that's just how it happens. They get in shit. I bail them out, so this isn't what I expected to see and my reactions are maybe sluggish because of it, but my brain can only process so much information at a time and I'm still trying not to get distracted by the buzzing and humming and that tight smell and the feeling I'm going to get a nose bleed and there it is in front of me and I just stop and stare at it as my mind tick tocks and slowly, very painfully slowly takes in what I can see.

I'll set the scene for you:

The corridor opens into a larger area. Not quite a rec room, but almost. There are a few chairs against the greyish green walls. To my right is a window looking out over the area I just walked from. To my left is a wall. Straight ahead is another corridor. In the middle of the room they are standing. Facing me is Spencer. He's got his shirt done up incorrectly and he's got his head down looking at a bit of paper in one hand and a pen in the other. A blue pen it seems to be. He's not writing though. Behind him is a guy in black. He looks to be just a little bit shorter than Spencer, but he's much wider. He has a gun pressed to the back of Spencer's head. Behind him is Sam who is standing at a strange lean to one side. There's a crutch on the floor next to him and his hand is at the throat of the guy who has a gun at Spencer's head. It seems that Sam has a knife in that there hand of his too. Good lad. I don't know how long he's going to be able to stand there for. Behind Sam is another guy and that one has a gun to the back of Sam's neck. It's a pretty little tableau and it's there on pause with the sound muted…all sound but that of my heart thumping in my chest that is.

I walk in slowly and I can feel them watching me. I can sense that there are more of them too. I'm not sure where though. They are like the one who was on the step. Not quite from here yet not quite belonging anywhere else either. I move slowly and I move so that they can see my hands. I don't want that damned gun going off because they think I'm going to do something cunning. Which of course I am. When I can think of something. For now I need thinking space and time. I need to talk to them and waste time and try to get my boys out of this mess. I move close enough to take the paper and pen from his hands.

'What's this?' I ask Spencer, not the guy behind him.

'Sui….' And he stops and just stares at me. Seems his wonderful ability to talk has left him again. Now I look at Sam.

'What's this?' I show him the paper and pen.

'They want him to write a suicide note. Assisted suicide. He writes a note. They assist him by putting a bullet in his brain.'

Now I look at the guy with the gun to Spencer's head. 'He can't write.' I tell him and throw the pen across the room and screw up the bit of paper and put it in my back pocket. 'What's this all about? You OK there Sam…looks like you're going to fall over and that wouldn't be good for the guy whose throat has a knife at it.'

'You're too late Flanders.' The first gun says.

'I'm never too late. You really should know better than that. And that fellow standing in the corner with a hand gun pointed at the side of my head better have a very good reason for doing so and I want the reason now or I'm going to rip his face off and feed it to some whore. Put it down before you piss me off. Kill me here and what's the point in what you're doing? You know you wont pull that trigger so put the damned thing away before you shoot yourself in the foot.'

'I'm doing great here.' Sam tells me and I look at him again and there is a slight, but only very slight, look of general amusement on his face. I like it. Whatever _they_ think is going down here actually isn't.

'Good, hang on there.' I tell him and then my attention goes to the guy standing behind him. 'You know what will happen if you put a slug in the back of his neck? Let me tell you. That knife of Sam's is going to slice into your buddies neck there and he'll be dead before he can twitch his finger and that's not really what you want to happen is it now? There is also the minor matter that if you _do_ still decide to kill Sam, you've still not solved the problem of me and I'm one big problem don't you think?'

I'm not sure what's happened to the small group who followed me here but they seem gone now. Or maybe I've just tuned them out. I see Spencer's worried eyes flicking towards me and away again and I move in towards him a bit closer.

'Don't worry about this. You don't have to worry OK? Don't nod or answer you don't have to; what you have to do is have complete trust in me.' I look down at his shirt buttons and cant stand the idea that he'll may be dead with his buttons done up wrong. I place a hand on his chest. 'You trust me don't you? Remember the business with the mine? You need to trust me like that, but more. Sam can you hear me?'

'I can.'

'Good. You too have to have complete trust.'

'Fine. I'm not in the mood today for this shit and I certainly don't want to lose my other eye. You want trust then I suppose I'm going to have to give it to you.'

Now I look at the thing who has a gun to the back of Spencer's head. 'You need to trust me too. If you fire that gun then I expect you'll have done what you've been sent here to do, but the instant that trigger is pulled you're life is ended. Your head will be gone from your unholy shoulders and Sam will have done what he's there to do.' The thing's dark eyes are watching me carefully. It thinks I'm going to do something. I wish to fuck that it'd tell me what that thing is cos right now I don't know.

'If you put that gun down now I'm sure Sam will put his knife away, that's assuming Bobby behind him puts his away too. We can discuss this. We can talk things through. You don't want these kids watching this to see what it looks like to have your brains blown out do you?'

'Why should it bother me Flanders? It'd not bother you.'

'Then pull the trigger. Get it over with. Why are you playing with your food? Just kill it. Or do you need him to write a note first? Is that your problem here? Spencer couldn't make things look good for you by writing a note first? Can these kids here see that? Can they see that all these assisted suicides are simple murders? Is it a problem with paperwork if you return without his name?'

I look at Spencer and then back over at Sam and then at the guy in the middle again. 'That's what it is isn't it? You can't do this unless you have his permission. He's not going to give it.'

'Tell your goon to get the knife off me and we will talk about this.'

'Tell your goon to get then gun off the back of Sam's head and we might talk about this. How about I could to five and you all put your weapons away. You're not going to cull my boys. Not today. Not tomorrow. You understand me? You're not going to do it. Right…I'll count to five and we'll all stand down and be calm.'

There is a small nod from the back guy and a squint eyed look from the one in the middle. Spencer just stares off into space and Sam groans slightly and leans heavier on his crutch. It's Sam for now I am watching. I can feel what he's going to do and I need to let him know that it's all right.

'You set Sam?' I say.

'I'm ready.' He replies.

'Good…I will count to five and when I get to five you will _all_ drop your weapons and stand back. One – two.' Sam is looking at his arm which is curling around the thing's neck. 'Three – four.' A deep intake of breath. 'Five.' I grab Spencer and pull him out of the way. I drag him to the floor. I feel a spray of blood coming from the neck of the thing Sam just took down and there's a gun shot and a shout but I'm not watching. I'm just lying on the floor now covering Spencer and whispering into his ear. 'It's OK Spence.' But I don't know if it is. The second gun shot echoes around the room and there is more screaming and then just moaning and then silence.

-o-o-o-

I had to do it you know. Sod the consequences. I know what it's like to have my throat cut. I wanted to share the experience with someone else. I'm on the floor now and I'm in pain, but I was anyway so it doesn't really matter. I was as quick as a rattler I was! Being a fag cripple freak doesn't slow down your reflexes any…luckily. I sliced him. I dropped my other crutch took this gun from his dead hand and then plugged the guy who was standing behind me with his weapon stupidly at his side. Trust dad. Always trust him. HA! I would have gotten out of this mess on my own but a little help never hurt did it. Something though, something ripped through me. I think probably from the guy who was standing back watching. I can feel that old grey deathly fog encroaching now but that's OK. Dad is alive, I don't know about Spencer and I don't really give a shit right now. It's dad who has to survive this. If he's gone then I'm stuck. If Spencer's gone then dad's going to kill every motherfucker in the building. Something inside me hopes that Spencer's brains are all over the wall. Is that bad of me to think that? It's not like he can't go back to his comatose self. It's not like…

Someone is touching me and turning me over. I can't hear anything and all I can see is that greyness. My one eye doesn't seem to work. A finger is moving over my mouth and so I'm going to assume it's dad. No one else would do that.

-o-o-o-

Floyd grabbed me and pulled me to the floor and hurled himself on top of me. 'It's OK babes.' I heard being whispered in my ear just as the second shot blasted and the crying started then seemed to stop. I'm not sure what happened. I can smell blood. It's a smell you get used to when you've been around Floyd for as long as I have. I don't think I'm hurt. I can't feel any pain, just the pressure of Floyd laying on top of me, with his arms curled protectively around my head. Was I right to trust him? What did he actually do? I think I hit my head on the floor everything feels strange and fuzzy and now Floyd has gone. I can't feel him on me and I reach out and try to find him.

And that dreadful smell of fresh blood.

-o-o-o-

Fuck it.

That didn't work out quite as I had planned. I think I've lost Sam. Now I need to make sure I don't lose my Spence too.


	29. Mort Water

Part twenty-nine: Mort Water.

* * *

Insane cackling has broken out. I'm not sure if it's because someone actually finds what just happened amusing or if it's fear. I'm not moving. I'm not. I'm going to stay here on the floor for eternity because that's a better option than getting up and facing the aftermath of what just took place.

Floyd I think is with Sam.

Sam? I don't know what's happened. I know it must be bad. The screaming has stopped. The howling of pain has stopped. All there is now is that terrible laughter from one person. I've curled up around myself. My arms wrapped tightly around my chest. I'm waiting. Waiting for something to happen and nothing seems to be. Slowly I open my eyes and I can see Floyd leaning down over Sam. Touching him with fingertips over his chest.

'Shut up laughing boy.' He is saying. I can hear him now I can see him. I can hear other things. 'Shut up laughing boy.' He's repeating it over and over again. A chant if you will. I roll over onto my front and push myself up to kneel and look around. There's a lot of blood. It's pooled onto the floor and it's splashed along the skirting boards and it's dripped down the wall. 'Shut up laughing boy.' I can hear and the huck huck huck of someone's insane giggling. I drag my eyes away from the blood and then away from Floyd and look over at the person who's making all the noise. The red haired boy from the lunch room. He has his back to the window… He's pressed himself against it so hard that there's a good risk it's going to shatter and send him down onto the tarmac below. I have to shut him up some how. Floyd is going to kill him if I don't. I try to get Floyd's attention without having to say anything and without having to touch him. I don't know what he'll do, I really don't know what he would do if I did something to interrupt his chant and what seems to be some sort of grief. Though I've never seen him before act this way. It's as though all that matters is Sam. And I think it hurts me. I think that offends me in some way. Has he ever felt that sort of pain of loss when I've been at risk? Well I don't know. I really don't know, but I don't think he has. I feel that this is a first for him. He won't look at me though. All he seems to be able to see is Sam. And I loath him for that. Not Floyd, not him and it's wrong and it's unfair but I am feeling such a deep hatred for Sam right now that I really do hope that he's dead. That's wrong. I realise that. Sam came to help me. He was trying to help. I feel confused and angry and I feel more than a bit stupid.

Walking over to the red haired boy seems to take forever. I can hear Floyd's voice in the background, but only just. The closer I get to the laughter the fainter Floyds voice is. I reach out and put a hand on Red's shoulder and he jumps. Physically jumps almost as though I had punched him. His head smacks back on the glass and I have a horrible thought that he might go back through it and it'd look like I pushed him, but he doesn't. His head moves slightly and now he's facing me and still laughing.

'Be quiet.' I say softly to him. 'Calm down.' But the noise continues to scream out of his open mouth. He's drooling and his nose is running and there are tears streaking from his face. I grip his shoulder and pull him away from the window. 'Not safe there.' I tell him and he blinks and closes his mouth and there is a sudden and almost complete silence.

'Not safe there. Not safe anywhere Mop Boy.' He pushes my hand away from him. 'It's not the end. They'll come back. They might be gone now, but they'll come back and next time they'll have machines guns, oh man yes, next time they will just open up on all of us. Not safe anywhere anymore. You should be dead Mop Boy…you and that Trent. You've messed with them and they'll be back and they won't give a shit if you're here or not. We're going to get torn into little pieces by their big guns. Oh man. Torn into a thousand pieces and my mum and dad won't even know what bits are me.'

I turn slightly from him. I don't know if this is just insane ramblings or if there is any truth in this, but if there is some truth then we have to get away now. Totally away.

'I can help.' I say as I turn back to him. 'If you will listen to me and help I can help you too.'

'Help?! You fucking caused this! What's Flanders got to do with all of this anyway? Why's he involved. What's going on?!' His voice is rising in both pitch and volume.

'Come with me.' I take a hold of his shirt sleeve and drag him over towards where Floyd is. 'Pick up the crutches but don't touch anything else.' Then I crouch down on the other side of Sam to Floyd and put a hand over his. 'Floyd.' I say it gently. I don't want to disturb him, but I can't leave him here either. 'We have to go. I'll carry Sam. We need to leave here.'

Oh so slowly he looks up at me and I can see that there is something horribly wrong going on behind his eyes. 'Go where Spencer? Go where?'

I have no idea! 'Back to your house. We need to go back there.' I say anything just to get that mad look out of his eyes. To give him something to focus on other than Sam with a huge hole in his chest.

'I told him to trust me.'

'I know. You told us both to trust you.' I tighten my hold over his hand which feels as though it's trembling.

'And this happens.'

'You can fix it Floyd. You can fix it. It's going to be OK. We just need to find the way out of here. We need the next exit.'

'The next exit?' His voice sounds so distant. Like he's somewhere else altogether. I don't like it. His reaction to this is scaring me.

I wanted to carry Sam. I wanted Floyd to relinquish that hold on Sam…or for Sam to release Floyd. I'm not sure which way around it is, but he won't. He wraps his arms tightly around him and slowly stands. I give Red a quick glance to tell him to get moving and he seems to know what I want him to do. His eyes have that thousand yard stare to them though. I'm not sure he knows what he's doing or what's going on here. We move away slowly. I take the lead and then Floyd with his Sam and then Red, whose name I either don't know or I've forgotten. There seems to be no one else around now. The place is abandoned and if this had been happening when I was at college I would have jumped ship too. Our footsteps echo down the deserted corridor. Floyd is lost. Red is, well I'm not sure quite where his mind has gone, so I have to pull them back together and take charge. I've let other people control and push for long enough; far too long. Now I need to stop relying on other people and get us the hell out of here.

You know if you are thrust into shit for long enough the smell fades, but it's still there. I don't know if that makes sense. I don't know if anything does but I know that my mind is not what it was. I've been in the shit for too long. I'm beginning to think differently. Talk differently. I'm beginning not to be who I am any more and for now I don't mind that, because I truly believe that it's the only way I am going to get us away from this hellish place and back on the journey we started out on what feels like years ago. Maybe it was? Perhaps I've been on this journey with Floyd since I was a boy and just haven't realised it until now.

Down the steps outside. There are a few people standing there with mouths agape watching our little parade. They don't say anything. They possibly daren't say anything. If what Red said is true, if the others are going to return to finish what they started then probably fear is keeping them silent. I know I wouldn't talk to me. I know I'd not want to know what was or is going on or going to happen next. I'd hide my mind away somewhere safe and be the most inconspicuous person you've ever known. We walk in our slow procession across firstly the small paved area and then over onto the grass. A sigh, maybe a whispered voice as we move onwards but nothing for me to need to feel alarmed about. Just ahead of us is a small circle of people looking down at something in the slightly damp grass. I walk around them and they don't look up at us. Maybe they don't even see us? I don't know. I am relieved that they don't confront us though. I wonder how irregular what we are doing actually is. Do they see this sort of thing often? I thought from Red's reaction that it was unusual, but maybe I'm wrong. It might have just been that we fought back that was the thing that scared him. Has no one every resisted it before? Why am I thinking like this is all real anyway?! As Floyd pointed out earlier; none of this is real. It's here to test us. Has Floyd failed his test? Are we all lost or are we all trapped? I have to find the way out. Down on the beach there was an exit. In the jungle there was. Right back where we first started there was the fog that took us to that jungle. There will be a way out of here too and I will find it.

We reach Floyd's house and we come to a stop. The door is locked.

'I need a key.' I'm talking to Floyd but I don't know if he can hear me. 'Floyd, we need a key. The door is locked.' But he doesn't react to my words. With a slight grimace on my face I move so I am standing behind him and reach around into his pockets. There is the inevitable lighter and smokes and right at the bottom a small key. I pull this item from his pocket and he still doesn't react to me.

'We going in the professors place?' Red's voice has a slight quaver to it.

I just nod and walk to Floyd's door and let us all in making sure to lock the door securely behind us again. Floyd walks to the couch and sits down with Sam laying over his lap. I look at him briefly and see those fingers again touching Sam's chest. Placing his fingers over that ghastly hole where his heart should be and just staring down with a look of something on his face that I can't quite place. If I didn't know Floyd better I'd say it was grief. Or maybe guilt? I'm really not sure. Not sure of any damned thing. I move with speed to the window and pull the curtains closed and then turn to Red.

'We are looking for something.' I nod towards Floyd. 'An exit. A gateway of some kind. Something out of place maybe that people avoid.'

He's standing with this back tight against the wall looking like a trapped animal. 'I don't know what you mean.' I walk towards him but I don't get too close. I don't want to appear threatening, but I'm sure this boy knows what I'm asking him.

'Think. There is a place around here somewhere. Something that people are maybe superstitious about. Something they avoid.'

He's shaking his head. 'I can't think of anything. Only the lunch room.'

Now I'm shaking my head too. 'No, something probably in the open. A doorway or portal. Maybe something that it's believed you can go through, but cant return.'

At this he looks up at me and that distant look on his face seems to clear or a while. 'The Mort Water? You mean the Mort Water? What the hell do you want to go there for? You going to chuck Trent in it?'

I give him a small tight smile. 'I don't know yet, tell me more about this Mort Water. Where is it? What is it?'

'Ah hell Mop Boy, you really don't want to go there. It's the place of the dead. Those exterminator guys, they use it. I've seen it. I've seen what happens there. It looks like water but it's not. It ripples and moves and if you get too close it leaps out and grabs you and drags you in. It moves so fucking fast that you can't escape it. It stinks of death. Of all those bodies in it. You can't mean there. You don't wanna go there.'

I bite down on my bottom lip. 'You might be right, it might not be where I'm looking for. Has anyone survived being thrown in there?'

'Survived! You don't throw live things in there for fuck's sake! It sucks everything down and eats it. The thing is almost alive. I'm telling you; I heard some guy went there once with this stick or something…a branch from a tree maybe, I'm not sure…and he prodded the Mort with it and it reached out and grabbed his hand and he was gone before he could even make a sound. I didn't see it, but other people did. I'll tell you how to get there, but really if you're looking or a way out that's not going to be the place.'

'Yes it is.' Floyd says and Red looks over at him and I turn to look. Floyd is still fingering that wound and now is rocking back and forth with him.

'It's not a place that will help though! It's a place were the dead go.'

'That's fine.' Floyd says again. 'We've been dead a long time. Too long. It's time to go. Take me to this place.'

'Fuck that! I'll tell you where it is but I'm not going to go there. I just said how bad that place is. I don't want arrive and see it's in a bad mood and is creeping out pulling people in!'

'You'll do what I tell you to do boy or I'll rip your fucking face off and feed it to a whore.'

And Red goes suddenly silent. I turn back to face him and he has that far away look on his face again. 'He's doesn't make empty threats. If I was you I'd do what he asks.'

'What's he talking about? Been dead a long time? What's wrong with him?'

'Nothing wrong with me kid. Nothing that a visit to this Mort won't fix.' Floyd makes a soft groaning sound from deep down inside himself as he stands with Sam still tight in his arms. 'Where is this place? How far? Will it take long to reach it?'

'It's close I suppose. It'll take about half an hour to reach the outskirts of the place. It's in like a wooded area, but no one goes in there. You'd be an absolute insane madman to go in there.'

'Well I guess that makes me insane then doesn't it?' Floyd is walking towards the door. 'Half an hour…that should be fine. Show me.'

-o-o-o-

If I'd done this it would be different. But I didn't do this. Someone, no some_thing_ did this and maybe, just maybe now it's beyond my ability to fix. I don't feel I can fix it.

We are walking in the open air again. Some kid from the college or whatever the fuck it was is showing us either the way out or the end. I won't know until I see this Mort Water thing myself. I think it's just a way though, an exit to the next place.

I've not lost the plot. It's OK. I know it might look like I've gone strangely obsessed by Sam, but I'm here still. I'm here…somewhere…thinking, and thinking and trying to come up with some sort of deal. I will have to offer them something and all I have is Spencer and I'm not willing to lose him for Sam. The other way around maybe? But probably not. I've become oddly attached to Sam since we started this.

It's not natural.

The feelings it's giving me are wrong. I know that, but I don't know how to put a stop to them. And so I'm closing down for a while and I'm going to work out what to offer them in exchange for bringing Sam back…and the red haired boy looks like a good starting point. I'll offer him. See what they say. He's certainly coming with us wherever we might be going. An extra bit of meat to throw into the hole might please them. He's a weak kid. Something easily manipulated. A bully. A little shit who's so damned scared now he's stop and give me a blow job if I demanded it. But I'm not going to.

Sam is leaking.

It's getting all over me and the smell is less than good, but that's OK. I have a feeling we are nearly there anyway. We are in a small wooded area. Sparsely wooded. There are trees but no undergrowth so it's easy to walk and not trip. There are red signs stuck up on some of the trees. Big signs and some not so big but they are all red and they all give the same warning. "Danger. Keep Away." No explanation to why it's dangerous. Nothing to say what we should be keeping away from either. Spencer is walking to my side now that there is room to spread out a bit. He's watching me furtively. Giving me small glances but trying not to make it too obvious. I'd know even if I couldn't see him though. I can feel his eyes flicking towards me and trying to work out what I'm thinking. If he discovers this mystery I hope he lets me know. I don't know what to think. I don't know that I can be bothered to think either. When the woodland we have been walking through comes to an abrupt stop I hear the hiss of breath coming from Spencer. It's all too familiar. It's like where the jungle suddenly started. The same sort of feeling to it. It just suddenly stops being a woodland anymore and becomes something else.

In front of us now is a high wire fence and there is that electrical buzzing sound again, only this time it's from the power being sent through that metal. It's to keep people away. A final warning. A gate stands just about one hundred foot or so to the right of us.

'I don't know how we get in.' It's the sound of the lads voice, but it's OK. I can get through that easily enough. Just need to get that gate open. We walk without saying anything else to that gate and I think we are all staring at the lock. A bit electronic thing sitting there on the front of the gate with lights twitching and blinking in reds and greens. I should be able to open that. If not, if it gives me the mother of an electric shock and blasts me out of my boots and roasts in instantly then there is nothing else to worry about. It'll be over. For me at least. Now I turn my head and look at Spencer.

'I need you to hold Sam.'

I see the reluctance in his eyes. Just a small hesitation flew across his face there.

'I need you to hold Sam.' I repeat and this time I raise and eyebrow in a _Take him from me or I will tear you apart with my teeth_ sort of way and now he's stepping forward.

'I'll take him, but what are you going to do? Climb the fence?'

I don't like his tonality. I don't like his posture. I don't like anything much about him right now. 'Just take him.' But my arms really don't want to release him. 'Take him and I'll get the damned gate open.'

As Spencer puts his own arms around Sam's body the boy talks again.

'You can't open the gate! That thing in there. It'll get us.'

My hands are mucky with whatever it was that Sam was leaking and I wipe my hands on the side of my jeans legs. 'I'm not asking you to go in there boy. Your job is done. Go. Get out of here. Run.' But he doesn't move; he's just standing there staring at me. I turn from him and make my way to the gate and just listen to it. I listen closely to it. When I've tuned out everything from around me I step even closer and now I'm just listening to the lock. The small clicks it makes, the tiny little pulses of power it's giving out. One finger at first, just one finger resting on the lock and I run that one finger over the lights. Click, click, click…and a soft humming noise that I think only I can hear then a final clunking sound as the gate unlocks and a soft moaning sound from Spencer as the gate swings open. I think to take Sam back from him and then decide not to.

'Boy I told you to get out of here.' I say. Cos I know he's not gone.

'Small point now. I brought you here. They'll kill me for that alone. I might as well carry on with you now.'

'I don't need you. Get out of here. You can't come with us.'

'Don't matter what way I die really does it? It's going to happen one way or the other.'

So I turn to look at him. 'Stop being so fucking dramatic. I thought Spencer was the one for all that shit. I've never heard such a load of crap in my life. I'm telling you to get out of here. Go home. Go phone your mum or something. Do something nice. Go fuck someone. Anything. If today is your last day you want to spend it doing something good, not hanging around with us. Fuck off.'

He's backing off slightly.

'What do you want?! Go. Leave us alone now. You've been a hero for the day. Now go and tell some whore all about it and start living.'

And he turns and at first he's walking away and once he's through the line of trees he's running hell for leather. I face Spencer now who is holding tight to my treasure. 'I'm not going to explain myself.' I snap at him. I don't know if he wanted a reason, but I don't know what it is so he can't bloody well have one!

We go together through the gate and once through I close it and listen to the locks clicking back into place. Wouldn't be nice for someone to come wandering in here my mistake. Nice for me maybe, but not nice for him or her or maybe even it. Now we are in I look around and see the soft green grass. No, not grass; it's that almost grass that we've seen before. This is how I know this is where we are meant to be. This is a cross over point again. I feel a tight twist in my stomach as I start walking forward again. 'Whatever happens Spence, just let it.' He doesn't respond to me but I know he's there still. I can smell Sam. It's really not nice. Not sure if it's just those stinking clothes and the normal smells you get when you're body relaxes after death, or if he's actually started to rot. I really have no idea, but I can assure you that it's not a good thing to be smelling. 'Just keep hold of him. If something comes for you, go. Just go with it. Don't fight it. Stay with Sam.'

'And you?'

'And I will be right there with you. No fear about that Spence. I'm not going to let you go somewhere and not be there too.'

There's a grey haze now. Almost like a shimmering fog laying over the grass and yes, it does look a bit like water. I can see that. I can also see that this is possibly the furthest thing from actual water that I've ever seen. It's alive. The boy said something about it being alive and it is. I can feel it. I can sense it thinking. I can feel it pulling at us and calling us and asking us to get a bit closer; just a bit closer so that it can maybe touch us. It's telling me that it will care for me. It will cure me. It will be my comfort and my love.

'Don't lie to me.' I tell it. 'I know what you are, demon. I know what you are and what you want. Don't lie to me.' And that sense of comfort it tried to give me is gone and again I hear that hiss of breath coming from Spencer. 'Spencer. Don't worry. It's going to be like when we went through the fog, or like when we went across that line. It won't hurt us. It might make you shit your pants in terror but it can't hurt you.'

'You don't know that. Now who's the liar Floyd?'

My attempt at comfort failed. No, my attempt at comfort had a different outcome to that I expected. Not a failure. Just a difference. That's OK. I reach out my hand and take hold of his elbow. 'We just walk into it. Don't let what it's telling you confuse you. Just walk into it. Close your eyes if you want to, but for fuck's sake don't let go of Sam.'

'I won't. I won't let go of Sam.' He tells me but I know that there is a part of him that wants to drop Sam. Part of him wants to leave him behind and have me all to himself. It's this damned place. If I think about it seriously, which I do happen to do sometimes, then I'd think that I shouldn't have brought him here, but if I hadn't there would have been no point in all of this. All of this shit wouldn't have happened in the first bloody place. I grip him tighter as we get closer and mist closes around our feet.

'Take a deep breath and trust me' I tell him and two more steps and we are covered and gone. It feels like we are sucked downwards and for a horrible minute I wonder if I misunderstood. I wonder if we did the right thing.


	30. A Deal

Part thirty: A Deal 

* * *

I slipped and fell and rolled. At some point Sam was ripped from my grip but I'm not sure when exactly it happened. It feels as though time jumped. Not a smooth transition like we had when going through the other exits. This was more like I was dragged, hurled and thrown out the other side of something I can't explain. I'm on my knees now coughing and gagging and trying to pull in a breath that doesn't seem to want to be pulled in. For a horrible moment I wonder if there is no air here. It feels as though I'm going to suffocate as I kneel here with drool running down my chin and tears madly running down my face as they try to get the dust out of my eyes. I can hear other noises. Gasps and coughs and choking noises and I want to look around and see, just to make sure that it is Floyd here with me, but I can't seem to open my eyes properly. A thick white dust is everywhere…but finally I am able to take a breath and that makes me choke and cough more, but at least I know now that there is something other than dust to breathe in.

I stay where I am for a short while and manage to look down at what I'm actually kneeling on. It looks like a course white powder and I'm guessing that when we were thrown there it unsettled it and set of a virtual dust storm. The air now managing to reach my lungs isn't making me cough but it feels unwelcoming and warm. Dry warmth; desert warmth. A little bit too warm for it to feel pleasant. My lips are dry and when I lick them I get a good load of the dust in my mouth which causes me to spit into the dust in front of me as I try to get it out of my mouth again. I don't know what this stuff is and I don't want it in my mouth, though I know I'm drawing it down into my lungs with every breath, that's somehow not as bad as eating the damned stuff. Now that the coughing around me has subsided too I take a risk and have a look to see who else is here with me. I see Floyd first. He's kneeling much like I am and looking over to his side at something. My eyes follow what he's looking at and there is Sam. My first thought being _Thank the gods he's here. At least Floyd won't kill me for losing him._ My second thought which comes along so rapidly that it over laps the first one is _He's alive._ I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. And I don't like myself very much for thinking it, but the thought is there before I can block it. I really do not like Sam. No, it's the relationship he has with Floyd that I don't like and if he was just his son, if he was actually his son and not this weird thing Floyd says is his spawn, then it might be different. I wouldn't feel this insane jealousy that I feel surging through me when I see Floyd look at Sam in a way I want reserved for when he looks at me. I wish I could say to Floyd _That's your son! You can't think that about your son. You can't do that to your son._ But he's not so I can't and even if he was and I did say something I really don't think Floyd would understand just why looking at your child in that way is wrong. Oh and I know he doesn't just look, I know, but I can block that out easier. I didn't see that did I? Did I? Have I seen more than those looks? I don't know anymore because the images I have in my head are so real that they may as well have happened. Those looks they give each other, those looks of adoration and maybe love; they are the ones which make my skin crawl. That's what makes me wish Sam was dead. Just die damn you! Just die! He wanted to, back in the tub. He wanted to drown. Why didn't I let him then? Why didn't I walk away and let him take his own life? Well probably because Floyd asked me to go there and look after him. I'd not go against something he asked me to do. I couldn't. Yet…

'Spencer?'

My name is followed up with a deep phlegm filled cough. I slowly turn around still on my hands and knees and begin to crawl towards Floyd.

'Not me, go to Sam.'

But I keep going towards Floyd. I don't want to check up on Sam. I don't want to be his nurse maid. I don't want to help something I wish would just die.

'Spencer, go help Sam.'

But I ignore him and move closer to Floyd and further from Sam. When I am within touching distance Floyd's hand lifts from the dust and rests over mine which is about an inch deep in white gritty powder.

'Spencer.' Is all he says and I look up at him and I smile and I feel him shifting slightly and it would maybe at another time given me a warning. I feel the hand resting on mine press down a bit harder and his weight is transferred. 'Spencer!' A demanding voice and I look up at him just as his hand flies and slaps my across the face. It wasn't too hard. I'm still on my hands and knees in the dust but it's made my eyes water again and a drip of blood crawls out of my nose and drops onto my Floyd's hand which is covering mine. 'I told you go help Sam. Do what I fucking well tell you.'

I want to shout at him and tell him that I'm not his dog. I'm not something to be pushed around and used. I'm not Sam's nurse. I'm me! I'm Spencer! I want to slap him back. Actually I want to punch him on that lovely nose of his. I want to see the look of surprise on his face. But of course I don't. The moment has passed and I can't. He's looking at me still. Waiting for me to do something and react to the slap and I do nothing. I don't go to Sam I don't move away I just watch those dark eyes of his and that creepy madness is still there behind them. Something has gone very wrong with Floyd's mind. And I laugh. I actually start laughing at him. At me. At Sam. At the whole situation. How the hell can something go wrong with Floyd's mind? It was never sane to begin with, all that's happened is he's showing me what he is without the cover up. Without the pretence that he actually wants or needs me. This is the Floyd everyone else sees and I don't like it. I can see what Hotchner can see. I can see what Morgan sees. I can see what JJ saw just before he killed her and it doesn't make me bend to his will. It doesn't make me crawl away and do what he's demanding, it just makes me feel sorry for him and it makes me more that a little bit sick. I sniff up some of the blood still coming from my nose but I keep my eyes firmly on his.

'Hit me again Floyd and I'll hit you back and I might not be as strong as you, but you'll still feel it.'

He doesn't answer me. He's just staring me in the eyes and I can almost see things in that darkness crawling over his vision. A slight flash of red maybe? Something else? I'm not certain what it is, but it's demonic and threatening and if he wants to kill me for saying what I did then I'd already be dead. He's going to do nothing and I know it.

'If you want to Sam then go to him yourself. I'm not yours to order around.'

This maybe was too much. Now he responds. There is a hand on my shoulder and there are fingers twisting in my hair at the side of my head and again maybe there was a flash of something behind those eyes of his. 'Don't you fucking talk to me like that you dirty whore. You got Sam shot. You…that was you. Go to him. Bring him to me or I'll snap your pretty little neck before you can even think.'

'No you won't.' I take a long deep breath. 'Take your hands off me Floyd. If you wanted me dead you've had plenty of chances. You need me alive. Stop with the empty threats and go and sort Sam out yourself. I didn't kill him. You know I didn't. You did that. You told him to trust you…He trusted you and you got him shot. That was not my fault Floyd. You told me to go to him then and help him and like a fool I did what you told me to do. I ran around taking care of what you should have been doing while you were chopping your wife into bits because in the end Floyd that's what you're best at. Destroying things.' The fingers tighten in my hair and fingers dig into my shoulder. 'You need to care for your own Floyd and stop palming him off onto other people. First with the clan and then with Hotch and then with Rossi and now me. He's yours. You take care of him. Step up to the damned plate Floyd and deal with it.'

I had a feeling that I'd have been dead before I could finish but he lets go of me and stands. His foot makes contact with my shoulder and he pushes me back onto my stomach in the dust. He doesn't talk to me. He spits into the dust right in front of my face and then he lights up a smoke. Always his damned smokes before anything else.

-o-o-o-

The bastard is right of course. I'm not going to kill him. I slapped him. I didn't even have it in me to punch him good and knock a few teeth out. He's not right about my responsibility though. Each of us are independent of the other. I don't owe Spencer anything and he owes me only his life. Same with Sam. He has to realise that he's only alive because I choose for him to be so. Don't either of them realise that? How many times have I pulled Spencer back? How many fucking times have I lay with him with my hand over his heart willing it to start again? How many fucking times! He forgets that though. He doesn't want to remember the times I saved him from the school bullies. He doesn't want to be reminded that it was me at his side night after night after that bastard got him on drugs. Yes he's forgotten all that shit. Selective freaking memory he has. They always forget though. Every fucking time they forget and it makes me angry. So fucking angry that when the time comes and I'm told what to do I just do it. I'm glad to get them out of my life. Usually. I didn't think it would ever feel like this with Spencer. I thought I'd need him forever but now I'm not so sure. Killing him at this stage though? Not fucking likely. I look at him laying in the dust and spit down at him to let him know that's all he's worth. All he's every fucking been worth. He's nothing. Never was anything but a nice arse and something to keep my front warm when it was cold outside. Something nice to think about when I had my smoke afterwards. That's all he is. Something nice. And nice things are easily replaced. He has to remember that. He's getting old too. He's not such the cute kid he was. I light up a smoke and look over at Sam who's on his back staring at the sky. I can see from here that he's breathing. I can see the bloodied clothes his got on. I can see the metal braces around his legs and I can see the patch over his eye, but he's breathing. That's all I need. Doesn't matter what condition he's in as long as I get him there alive. A pair of crutches is lying in the dust next to him and I wonder how they got there. Didn't the red haired kid have those? Doesn't really matter though. I leave Spencer and walk over to Sam.

'How's you?' I crouch down next to him and can see that hole in his chest where his heart once was.

'You should have left me behind. I just want to be dead. Cant you just leave me to die?'

I prod at him with my finger. I poke his shoulder. 'You did that on purpose? You wanted them to kill you?'

'Naturally. Would you want to be what I am now? You got in the way though. Five more minutes and you'd have been too late.'

'Well it's lucky I got there then. I don't want you dead.' And I nearly added the word _yet_ on the end but stopped myself. He knows though. He heard that word even if I didn't actually voice it. He heard it loud and clear. He swipes out with his hand.

'Cant you just leave me alone? Go and fuck Spencer or something. I want to be on my own.'

'I can arrange that.' I stand. 'You stink.' And I walk back towards Spencer.

I stand and watch him. I want to say something and I'm not sure what. I want to try to make things right again maybe? I'm undecided. We are nearly at the end and I don't know yet what's going to be asked of me. I rub at my neck which has just given me a reminder of why we are here in the first place and let my eyes wander over Spencer for a while. I look at that cute profile of his. I watch the way he wraps his arms tightly around himself. I look at the way he stands there looking so damned vulnerable. I'd like things back as they were but I think I've broken him too much this time. It's going to take some kind of miracle to fix this shit. My fingers are tingling now. They are begging me to touch him. They want to feel their way over his body and get maybe for one last time a little bit of pleasure from it, but I'm not going to. I know if I touch him, even to hold his hand then everything will dissolve around me again.

'We need to get away from here. Keep moving.' I say, but not really to him, or to Sam who I can hear grunting and moaning behind me as he tries to get to his feet.

Spencer mutters something I can't quite hear and then turns to me and says it again. 'You want to get moving so you can be free of us?'

'No. I want this over with Spencer. I want to get to the end and see what the hell is going to happen.'

'You know already.' That was Sam's voice from behind me. 'You know what's going to happen.'

Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. I turn from them both and start a slow walk in a direction I will call south. It's not actually south. Well perhaps it is, but there's no way of telling here. They will follow me. They don't have an option. I know Spencer will follow me. He's my dog. The one I've battered and kicked. The one who crawls back to me without fail because I'm all he knows. I'm all he's ever needed. I've made damned sure of that. OK he might have flirted with Agent Hotchner and he might have gone to him for comfort, but it was never a true comfort. He knew I'd punish him for that and it's probably why he did it. He needs to be slapped. He needs to be kicked around. He's a fucking punch bag and something to comfort me. Sam will follow Spencer because he'll not want to be left there alone. He says he wanted to die but he's a liar. It's an excuse. He's just a fucking weak excuse for a life form. They both are.

Convincing myself that I'll be able to do what I'm told if and when it comes to it is all I'm doing. It's working in a way. I'm feeling less like I need them for anything other than this final task. I've kept them alive. That's all I had to do. Maybe I slipped up a bit with Sam, but he's OK now. Not sure if he has a heart beat. Not sure he even has a heart, but he's walking and he's able to talk. They can't dispute that fact now can they? I've completed what I had to do. They threw distractions at me in all directions but I resisted most of them. Sure I killed Sonia. I maybe shouldn't have, oh and that whore. I killed her too, but I let that red haired kid live. I made sure he lived. That's something good isn't it? Fuck…I hope so.

'Slow down!' Sam's moaning voice. 'I can't keep up.'

This gives me the chance to light up, but this is my final smoke. The last one. I've no more left. I look at the lighter in my hand and wonder if I'll ever get the chance to use it again. I think it's highly doubtful. My lighter and my boots are both things I cling to. I've had my boots fixed more times than I can remember. The lighter though just keeps on going for me. I wonder if I should give it to Spence, the lighter that is…I wonder if I should turn to him and hold it out to him and pass it over…let it go, or maybe to Sam? But my fingers are greedy and they wrap around it and then put it back in my pocket. I turn around and look at the pair of them. One tall skinny god in cords and a dirty short sleeved shirt and one cripple with one eye and a pair of glasses to match the crutches. They wanted me to bring me my greatest treasures. They wanted me to get them there in one piece and I just about managed that and then my thought goes back to my lighter and my boots and I let a snort of laughter.

Maybe I've found a way out of this? Maybe?

Sam has nearly caught up with me now so I give him a small smile and then turn my back on him. I don't want to know if he returns it. My fingers slide into my pocket and stroke that lighter and my head does a strange spinning thing and my stomach hitches with excitement. A good sort of excitement too.

'How much further do we have to go?' Sam again. 'Cos this is really hard to walk with and my chest is hurting and my head aches and my balls are trying to crawl back into my body.'

'Not far.' I say. It's not going to be a matter of distance so much as when I am actually ready. And you know, I think I am. 'Ready when you are.' I say into the distance. 'Now would be a good time.' But nothing happens….not for at least two minutes anyway. It's like someone just turned the lights out. Smack…pitch darkness. The thought that Spencer doesn't like the dark is there almost immediately but I push away. I don't care. Not anymore. Not really. I don't care. I have no emotional attachment to either of them. I hear a yelp of surprise from Spencer and a smack and groan from Sam. It sounds like he's on his face in the dust again. But it doesn't matter. I stroke at the lighter again and look down to where my boots are even though I can't see them and a small grin spreads over my face. I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier. I don't know why this never occurred to me before. Thinking with my groin for way too long I think. And again I let out a small burst of laughter. When the lights come back on again I'm not standing in the dust. I'm standing on blackness. If Spencer and Sam are still here I don't know. I rather hope not. I don't want them there distracting me now.

'You failed.'

Well that's simple and straight to the point.

'There is no such thing as failure; just different outcomes.' I let them know.

'Sam died.'

I shrug.

'So you failed to protect that which means most to you. You were clumsy and messy. You let things distract you. You failed.'

'What has Sam got to do with anything?' I look at the thing standing in front of me. His skin is black. Not dark brown, but deep dark midnight black. His eyes blink and he smiles at me.

'He was the treasure you were bringing us. Sam and Spencer. You failed.'

I lick my lips and stroke at the lighter in my pocket and take a deep breath. 'They were not what I was protecting though. You made an error in judgment if that's what you thought I had Sam and Spencer with me for. They were just there to fuck and play with. It wasn't them I was bringing to you. You said to bring you my two greatest treasures.'

'We did.'

'You told me to bring them to you without damage.'

'We did.'

Now it's frowning at me.

'And that's exactly what I did. If you got confused over my actions and thought I was bringing you Spencer and Sam then you thought wrong.' And I feel that lighter getting warm in my hand as I pull it from my pocket. It doesn't want to go. It doesn't want to leave me. It's a part of me as much as my genitals are and I sure know I'd not be handing those over to some demon who thinks he can fucking well control me and take my boys away from me.

'The deal was that because officially you are _dead_ you will get another chance if you can prove yourself and bring us your greatest treasures unharmed.'

I curl my toes in my boots and quickly look down at them. I'll miss them. Damn I'll miss them. I can't replace something I've had for so long. Sam I can. Spencer I can…maybe, but not these things.

I put my hand out towards him but keep my fist closed over the lighter. 'Here. Take it. It's been with me since I was first sent down. I've hardly been a day without it being with me. It is I have to say going to break my heart to part with it, but you will not deny that I brought it to you in one piece and it does work. Try it.' His hand goes out in front of him palm up and I drop my precious lighter into it.

'What the hell is this?'

'My lighter.' I say as I sit down and pull of my much loved boots. 'Here have these too.' I toss them to him one at a time. 'Worn, very worn in fact but a very good pair of boots. I had those made in Jamestown err….' I count up in my head. 'Four hundred or so years ago. Please don't tell me that these things are not my treasures.'

'Boots and a lighter? They mean more to you than your lovers?'

I stand barefoot on the slightly warm and slightly rubbery surface. 'What lovers? I'm incapable of love. You know that. Even Gideon knew that. So as you can see, I didn't fail. I brought you the things which mean most to me. Things which I truly do treasure. Things I keep safe and never damage. Things I never abuse or coerce.'

'This isn't what we meant.' He snarls at me and throws them back at me. As I hoped he would!

'Then you should have been more precise. You wanted my treasures. I brought them to you. We made a deal.' I pick up the lighter and slip it back into my pocket and then sit down and put my boots back on again. He's pissed off with me. I can see that his mouth is a tight line across his face just under the two holes in his face he uses to breathe through.

'Wait.'

'Well there's not really anywhere to go is there? But we made a deal. Don't you go back on your word now. I didn't do all of this for you to go back and deny me what you owe me.'

'I owe you nothing.' He snaps and takes a few steps back and is gone.

I take the chance now to check on Spencer and Sam, but they don't seem to be here. I don't know if they took them already assuming that's what I brought them or if they are still standing in the dark somewhere. I sit back down again and wait for him to return.

-o-o-o-

I stand in the dark and take long deep breaths. I'm not going to freak out over this. I know what's out there hiding in the dark now. I know how to combat it now. I'm not going to panic.

So why are my breaths now coming in short sharp snaps and not the long deep ones I started with? Why is that vile sickening twisting happening in my stomach?

'It's OK.' I say to myself. 'Everything is going to be fine. There's nothing here. Nothing to get worked up over.'

'Yeah but you're not laying on your face breathing in ground up bone and shit are you.' Sam's voice echoes back at me.

Ground up bone? Well of course. I knew that already I'd just chosen to ignore it. I should try to help him. I should move one foot in front of the other and get over there and help him, but what I _should _do and what I _want_ to do are very different. I want to stay put. I want to ignore Sam. I want…I want to go home damnit!

'Keep talking to me Sam.' I look in the direction his voice came from. 'I'll find you and help you.'

'I don't want your fucking help Spencer.'

I took one step forward as he was speaking and then I stop again. I know Floyd is going to expect me to help him. And I know he'll blame me if something happens to him and so I ignore what he said and take a few more steps. 'I'm not going to leave you there on your own.'

'What you mean is _You don't want to be on your own._ Don't talk shit to me Spencer.'

But it's not stopped him talking and I'm able to move in closer to the voice. 'OK I don't want to be on my own, but I also think that we should try at least to stay together.' That's partly true. Only partly.

'Well tell me Spencer what we can do? You can turn the lights back on if you reach me? You can turn back the clock and start again? What exactly is it you are going to do to help me. You should have let me die. Dad should have let me die. You two interfering bastards just can't leave well alone can you? I just want to go…completely go. I'm finished here. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this!'

I've reached him and I sit down next to him. He knows I'm there, but neither of us actually acknowledge that.

'What do you know? What's going on?'

I hear him sigh and spit and cough. I hear him moving around and a finger rests on my knee. 'He's got to prove himself Spencer. That he can protect things he loves.'

'How? And why?'

'He made some kind of a deal with the devil I suppose. Thinking of his own damned skin and not thinking of those people he supposedly loves. You know I don't think he's capable of true love anyway. I don't think so…he's just one of those who takes what he wants and when he's told to give it back he has a tantrum and refuses to. He thinks that's love, but it's not. It's stubbornness and greed is all. He'll fail. I'll get tipped back into my pit and have to make my own deals and you'll likely go back to a hospital bed and die. That's the love…that's what he does.'

The finger draws a circle on my leg and then the fingers clamp around my knee. 'Sam?' I don't know what he's doing or what he wants. I don't know how to respond to what he said.

'Here's the thing. I could make a personal deal for the two of us. I could take over from Dad as such. Get myself out of the hole I'm in and get you well again back in the place you're lying now with monitors bleeping around you and no one coming to visit you. We could do that. I could at least try. We can say that he betrayed us. We can say that. It might work. You have to be sure you want to say goodbye to Dad though cos if we do this…if we make our own deal to get out of here then he'll not be able to come back. Well stab the bastard in the back. I'll get better…you'll live…we'll not have him around anymore, but we'll have each other. Sound like a plan?'

I push the hand away from me. It sounds like a plan, but not one I want to be a part of. 'We don't know yet what's happening with Floyd.'

'He's probably sitting waiting. We are sitting waiting. Someone has to make the first damned move Spence! We can just sit here and wait for him to twist the knife he's already planted firmly in our backs.'

But he hasn't. I don't know how I know this but I just do. Something inside of me knows that Floyd would do everything within his power not to do what Sam is claiming. And I certainly don't want him as a replacement for Floyd! 'We must wait.' I tell him. 'I'm going to stay here until we have no options left. Then I will maybe consider some kind of deal.'

'He'll kill you!'

'No he wont.'

'You don't know him too well then do you.' Sam snaps at me.

'Well enough to know he'd not kill me Sam. He can't. He won't. Not on purpose. He might threaten it. He might cause pain, but kill me? I don't think so.'

'You're an idiot! I'll make my own deals then. Go away and let me call them and make my own deals. Leave me alone.'

I stand up again and I feel like kicking the dust into his face. I feel like shaking the boy to try to make him see sense, but I don't. I turn and walk away. 'Just don't you involve me in your deals Sam. Don't you dare involve me. I'll not go along with it.'

'Well you might not have a choice big boy!' He howls back at me in anger.

Time to ignore. Time to just walk away from it and hope that Floyd isn't somewhere comfortable drinking whiskey and smoking and playing with his new boy, but I don't think he is. Something inside of me tells me that he has other plans. The problem with that is that his plans generally mess up. He can't stick to them. He gets distracted and his mind wanders and the plan goes down the drain. I just have to trust that this time it will be….

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt when my foot snags in something. It almost trips me over and in the darkness I bend down very carefully and feel around to see what I've caught my foot in. Even though it's dark my eyes are closed tightly. I don't want even the slightest risk that I might see what this thing is. I don't want to know what it is, but my fingers send the messages back to my brain anyway and tell me loud and clear…_rib cage_. I pull my foot away and just stand. _Human rib cage._ I rub at my closed eyes with the heels of my hands desperately trying to remove the image in my head and then carefully take a few steps back. I want to go back the way I came, but I've probably been walking in circles. I don't know how to get back to where I was, not without calling out to Sam and I don't want to do that. I decide to just sit. Sit and keep very still. Eventually Floyd will come back or the light will come back. I'm not sure which of those I want the most. I sit with my legs crossed and my arms tightly around me and start pinching at my sides with my fingernails. I just want something to happen and I want it to happen soon. I don't have statistics to pull up in my mind and comfort me. I don't have any damned statistics on percentages of the likelihood of this turning out in my favour.

-o-o-o-

How long have I been here in this place waiting for them to come back? I click my lighter on and off for a while and then slide it back into my pocket. They have to come back soon. How fucking long does it take them to reach a damned decision?! They know I'm right. They know it. Why can't they just put me out of my misery one way or another and come back?

'There is a problem.' It's darkie again. He's behind me so I turn around.

'What sort of a problem?' I don't like the sound of this. I really don't like it. A sweat coming out on my brow but I ignore it and just blink away anything that gets in my eyes.

'Sam. The problem is Sam.'

Well no big fucking surprise there. 'How is Sam a problem? He's not a part of this. I told you that.'

He takes a step towards me and he has a sort of smile on his face, but without having to actually smile. He looks bloody delighted with something. 'Sam wants to make a deal.' He tells me and now he is grinning.

'Oh.'

'It seems pretty reasonable too, but I thought I'd relay the message to you. For my own pleasure.'

This sounds bad. What the hell has Sam done? 'Well tell me the message then. I don't want you to hold out on me. I'd love to be the focus of your pleasure.'

'Being your spawn Sam is unable to be fully independent. Not all the time you are around. Not all the time you are alive. He's offered to take over from you. To continue where you left off.'

'He…'

'Shut up…I'm talking to you. You keep your dirty little mouth shut.'

So I do. No point in upsetting the son of a bitch.

'We are going to give him what he wants.'

They're going to snuff me out. I can feel it. It's making my balls tingle and my scalp itch. 'You can't. I brought you what you asked for. You can't renege on the deal. That's not how it works. You can't put me through that then go back on it.'

But they can. And they will.

'You brought us your treasures.' He steps forwards closer. I take a few steps back. 'We accept that. That part of the deal is done. Your Spencer will be sent back. All will be good. Don't worry about that. It's Sam though. He's offered…'

'I don't give a fuck what Sam has offered! He's not in the damned position to offer you any fucking thing! Not a damned thing!'

He walks towards me again…and I again step back. I don't want that creature within touching distance of me.

'You're correct. He's a little upstart shit. He's you. What would you expect Flanders? What would you do if you were in Sam's situation? Sit back and wait to die or offer something in the hopes that things will improve?'

'I'd rather die.' Ooops. Didn't mean to say that. That was really rather stupid of me wasn't it? Fuck. 'I'd rather die than betray…'

'Betray?!' And the thing is laughing at me. 'You know that there has been a war going on here.'

I nod slowly at him, not sure where this is going to go now. I'm not dead. He's not going to kill me, so what the hell is he or it going to do?

'Good, then you know that sometimes during wars deals get made and broken. Paperwork goes missing. Instructions and plans get mislaid.'

I nod again.

'Well it seems that our original contract has gone missing. I've made a new one for you. Sam is a problem. He's not loyal. He's far from reliable. You however, I know you will come crawling back to us and I know you'd offer certain sacrifices of your own to save what you may or may not love. That's something Sam hasn't got. He's lacking.'

'OK…so what's the new deal?'

'Originally this test was to save your own hide. Well it's saved. The others were amused by your twist. That is all I'm willing to offer you though Flanders. If you want more then you're going to have to get back what you've lost.'

Lost? What have I lost now? My fingers slip into my pocket to check my lighter…that's there…the only other thing is Spencer. I've lost Spencer? 'What have you done to Spencer? What the fuck have you done you miserable back stabbing freak bastard?!'

'Nothing.'

I don't understand. I'm so fucking confused right now that I think my head is going to explode. 'You are going to have to explain using small words and talk slowly. I think I've just become a retard. I have no idea what the hell is going on anymore. What have I lost?'

'Your sanity. Your freedom. Good bye and the best of luck Flanders. Really I mean it. All the best. I'm sure we'll meet again some day. Probably not too far in the future, but you know how time is don't you? It's a strange thing. Backwards and forwards and staying still.'

'And Sam?'

'Sam will get what he wants. But you know how things are. There's always a twist. Things are never as they appear but you don't need to worry about him. You need to worry about yourself Flanders. Another test I suppose this is.'

-o-o-o-

It was a harrowing case. Strauss gave us all time off afterwards but the nightmares…those horrific nightmares…they only seemed to fade away after a drink and a sleep which comes through pure exhaustion. I drive into work early this morning. I awoke suddenly. In a sweat. Panicking about something, but I don't remember what the nightmare was. I just woke with the feeling that something dreadful had happened. This morning things feel different. There was something else there too. A flicker of a memory from the dream maybe and though I'd not got but a few hours of sleep there was no chance of me being able to get more hours. I just had this urgent need to get into work. Something needs to be checked up on. I don't know what and I won't know until I go there and see what the hell is going on. I put on my suit and leave. It's just after six in the morning when I step out of the elevator and walk across the empty bullpen. I can feel something is wrong. A buzzing in the air which is making my skin tingle. My office door is slightly ajar which is unusual. I stop my swift strides towards my office and just look at that slightly open door for a while. Maybe the cleaning staff left it open? Maybe Strauss has been here? Derek? Rossi? Prentiss – no not Prentiss… I move forward again barely noticing the way my hand drifts towards my side arm. Not really sensing the feel of the gun beneath my fingers. I don't pull it, but I check…and double check that it's there. I don't open the door further than it is I just stand and look through into the murky darkness of the room. The light from out in the bullpen is filtering through the slight gaps in the blinds which have been closed. Something smells wrong. The prickling on my skin has increased, but I ignore it and with my hand still drifting over the butt of my gun I pull the door open and walk in. What I see is not really what I expected. I don't know what I _did_ expect, but it wasn't Reid sleeping on my office couch. He's got his back to the room and his legs are pulled up tight to his chest. For a minute I just stand there looking at him. It's not just that Reid is on my office couch that is so wrong it's everything about the way he looks. I flick on the light half hoping that it'll wake him up, but he doesn't move. I don't close the door but walk quickly over to him and my hand moves to touch him, but I pull it back again. He's filthy. He smells like he's not washed in weeks. His hair is matted and covered in a white powder of some kind. His shoes are dusty too. Actually he's covered in a fine white dusting of something.

'Spencer?' I whisper the word not really wanting to wake him. 'Spencer!' This time louder and now my hand touches his shoulder. The reaction is immediate. He throws himself away from me with a shout of surprise and rolls onto the floor with a thump. 'Spencer…it's Hotch.' He looks up at me with a look of total shock on his face.

'Hotch?'

Now he's scrabbling to his feet. He looks like he's lost weight again. His face is sunken. The dark circles have appeared around his eyes again.

'It's OK Reid.' But it's not OK. This situation really is not OK, but he looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. I can see now that he's standing that he has dried blood under his nose and a bruise on the side of his face. His shirt buttons are done up wrong. Spencer himself is done up wrong.

'Oh god Hotch.'

Now he's looking around himself. I get the feeling that if I step out of his way he'd just run. 'What are you doing here? What's happened?'

'I… I don't know! Are you alright Hotch? Is Prentiss alright?'

'I'm fine.'

I spin and see Emily standing at my office door.

'I had a bad dream. Something told me I should be here. What's going on?' Her voice sounds shaky or maybe she's just tired too.

-o-o-o-

We took Spencer back to his apartment. He's a mess. I don't know what happened to him. He doesn't seem to know either, or doesn't want to talk about it at least. Hotch made sure he showered and got fresh clothes for him to put on and I made some coffee and ordered a pizza. Yes it's still only coming up to seven in the morning but we are now settled around Spencer's coffee table drinking coffee and eating pizza.

'Do you remember anything?' Spencer keeps asking us, but I don't know what it is I'm meant to remember. We both tell him that we don't and that seems to bother him even more.

'I think you just had a particularly bad nightmare.' Hotch tells him, but we both know better. Deep down we both know that there's more going on.

'Where is Sam?' He suddenly asks and Hotch looks at me and I raise and eyebrow back and wonder if Spencer has been taking drugs or something.

'Sam is where he's been all along Spencer.' I tell him. I watch as his fingers drag through his wet hair and the confusion spreads over his face.

'Where?' He sounds scared. He sounds more than scared actually. He sounds terrified.

'Sam is at college. He seems to be coping well all things considered.' I watch as Reid's eyes get even bigger.

'College?! He's at college?! What about Floyd?'

Hotch talks now. 'Spencer, what's going on? Really what's been going on? You know where Sam is. You know where Flanders is. Is there a reason why you think they might not be there now?'

Reid puts down the bit of pizza he had in his hand. 'I don't remember! I don't remember a thing…Hotch…Emily…I had…I don't know what I had but…' He pauses and looks at us both. 'I'm getting confused. My nightmares all seemed so real recently. I think I just need to sleep.' He stands up. 'But I don't know where Floyd is.'

I watch Spencer walk towards his bedroom. He's not told us to leave. I give Hotch a nod and pull my cell phone from my pocket and make a couple of quick calls. I need to make sure now. I have to know that Floyd is still locked away securely and I need to know that Sam's not absconded from college again. Both calls ease my mind. I don't know if they will ease Spencer's though.

'He needs to talk to someone.' I hiss at Hotch. 'He can't come back to work all the times he's in that state. How did he get through the eval after the last case?'

Hotch shrugs. 'The same way I did. The same way you did. We lied. We knew what to say.'

'Is he going to be alright? Can we leave him?'

'Go home Emily.' Hotch says and places a gentle hand on my arm. 'Things will settle. It's going to take time. The nightmares…they will stop.' He squeezes my arm to emphasise what he's saying. 'Eventually they will stop. Once the influence has gone and he has gone. Flanders won't be back.'

I do leave. I get a cab and I go back home. I pull off my work clothes which I had hurriedly put on not too long ago and I slip into a pair of boxer briefs and a vest and I stand at the window and look down at the street and chain smoke for the rest of the day. 'I'm waiting for you Flanders' I tell him. I know you can't get here yet, but I know you will eventually. You can't not come back. They can't keep you locked away. I'll be waiting for you.'

-o-o-o-

It feels as though a lump of my memory has been wiped away. No, actually it feels as though a lump of every one else's memory has been wiped and replaced with something else. Something wrong. I have to find Sam. I have to go and talk to him and find out what happened. Something went wrong. This wasn't meant to happen. I wasn't meant to lose my mind like this! Tomorrow…tomorrow I will go and find Sam and I will make him tell me what the hell he did. I know it was him. I had to be him! What the hell has Sam done?!

* * *

**a/n: I will continue this in another fic. Thanks for r&r…there will be more!! Unless you don't want more…No actually there will be more whether you like it or not! Pb xox**


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